


Viperous

by axlnchas



Category: Axl Rose (Musician), Duff Mckagan - Fandom, Guns N' Roses, Izzy Stradlin (Musician), Mötley Crüe, Skid Row (US Band), Slash (Musician), Steven Adler - Fandom
Genre: 1980s, Adult Content, Age Difference, Background Relationships, Bands, Brother-Sister Relationships, Car Sex, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Coming of Age, Concerts, Consensual Sex, Consensual Violence, Crying, Daddy Kink, Daydreaming, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Drama & Romance, Drinking, Driving, Dysfunctional Family, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Fame, Family Dynamics, Fanfiction, Fashion & Couture, First Kiss, First Time, Fist Fights, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Forbidden Love, Friends to Lovers, Graphic Description, Guns N' Roses References, High School, Holidays, Humor, Inspired by Music, Inspired by Real Events, Internal Conflict, Light BDSM, Long-Distance Relationship, Los Angeles, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Virginity, Love, Love Letters, Male-Female Friendship, Masturbation, Mental Anguish, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character(s), Minor Violence, Modeling, Moving In Together, Musical References, Musicians, Mutual Masturbation, NSFW, New York City, Oral Sex, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Female Character, POV First Person, POV Original Female Character, Partying, Plot, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Present Tense, Prom, Protective Siblings, Recreational Drug Use, References to Drugs, Rock Stars, Rock and Roll, Romanticism, Rough Sex, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Size Kink, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smut, Sneaking Out, Stalking, Swearing, Teen Romance, Teen Years, Teenage Drama, Teenagers, Threats of Violence, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touring, Travel, True Love, Underage Drinking, Underage Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Virginity Kink, Voice Kink, World Travel, nikki six (minor character), tommy lee (minor character), vince neil (minor character)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 42
Words: 110,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24666925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axlnchas/pseuds/axlnchas
Summary: Chasity "Chas" Novelo has been best friends with Michelle McKagan her entire life. They went from playing on the playground together as children, to attending band practice for Michelle's older brother, Duff. Guns N' Roses is the best upcoming band in Los Angeles, and if anyone believes in them, it's Chasity and Michelle. They help with everything-wardrobe, hair, makeup, writing, and moral support, all while trying to maintain their own lives. High school sucks, but it gets worse when the school quarterback, Dylan Reynolds gets a crush on Chasity. He's relentless, and drives Chasity to extremes she never imagined. All of which include Axl Rose, the lead singer of Guns N' Roses. Things are never the same after that."You have always been mine, baby"
Relationships: Axl Rose/Original Character(s), Boyfriend/Girlfriend, best friends - Relationship, brother & sisters, friends to lovers - Relationship
Comments: 16
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If this is your first time reading Viperous, welcome! I really hope you like it, this story has been a labor of love for me since I was 13! During the story's first write, I completed this book, Viperous, and then carried on to write Serene, the sequel! It had over 100 chapters and both books gained more than 200k. Then, I took a hiatus, came back, decided I wanted to rewrite the story, and here we are! 
> 
> Please comment, give a kudos, and follow me on Tumblr! Love ya!

**_March_ ** **_10th, 1987_ **

Independent study. A whole class period of sitting in a classroom with some ditsy teacher while we all pretend to be studying or doing homework.

I nearly flinch at the small note falls onto my desk, right in the middle of the math homework I'm working on. I look up and see Dylan Renolds, one of the most popular boys in the senior year, smiling at me and pointing to the note.

Dylan heard that I like him, from some dumb rumor someone told him last week at a party. One that I didn't even go to. Ever since then, he'd been trying to get me to go on a date with him, just like almost every other girl in my high school does.

I roll my eyes (mentally) as I unfold the note.

" _Hey. Wanna hang out after school?"_

I scribble back: "S _orry I can't. I have to be at my friend's house. Studying for the_ _english_ _test on Thursday_. :("

I feel bad about what I wrote for a second, but it's not a _complet_ e lie. I really will be at Michelle's house. Just not studying. . . We'll be watching her brother's band practice.

Not even bothering to sneakily pass the note back to him, I toss it in the air and it lands at his feet. A tornado could tear right through this room, and I'm pretty sure Ms. Lemmons wouldn't notice.

I tap my pencil on my desk as I stare up at the clock. Ten minutes till school's out. Thank God. I can only tolerate this place for so long.

I turn around when I feel someone lightly tap my back. The girl sitting behind me, Mary, points to Dylan, who has on a pouty face as he looks at me. I bring my hands up to my sides, and hope that the look I give him conveys my mock sadness enough for him to leave me alone.

Just then, the bell rings.

I shoot up out of my seat, trying to avoid confrontation with Dylan. I grab my things, and give myself a mental pat on the back for getting out of there so quickly.

It's not that Dylan isn't good looking. He's just rude. I can't even count the number of times I've heard him say some snide remark to an underclassmen for no reason during lunch or in between classes.

Definietly not someone I could like, let alone tolerate.

"Chasity!"

Michelle McKagan, my very best friend calls my name as she runs down the crowded hallway, right towards me.

"Hey loser."

"Oh, please. If I'm a loser, you are too."

I let my arm rest on her shoulder as we walk down the hall, my other arm occupied with my physics textbook.

"True. But maybe not as much as Dylan Reynolds." I say, keeping my voice quiet so only Michelle can hear.

She looks at me then, shock on her face. "He's really still trying to get into your pants? Oh my god. He's so desperate!"

I shush her in between my laughter. "I know! It's as if I'm the only girl in this school or something. I swear, I would do anything to get him to leave me alone. _Anything_."

"Earlier today someone told me he yelled at Katie in the parking lot yesterday morning as she kissed Brian. He called her a slut! Which doesn't even make any sense, she's been dating Brian since freshman year, and I swear they're gonna get married! Dylan is a-"

I manage to get Michelle to shut up once I quickly take her by the arm, turn in the opposite direction, and hide behind the big group of girls in front of the girl's bathroom.

"What is your problem-"

"He's right over there! And you're practically shouting!"

There may be a lot of teased hair hiding us from view, but I can still see the top of Dylan's head as he stands at his locker. I should've known better than to come this way.

All of the sudden, Michelle is sighing dramatically as she pulls me along with her, leaving the sight of Dylan and his friends in the dust behind us.

"God Chasity, you'd think he was an axe murderer or something," Michelle says.

"Well I hate talking to him! Can't blame me for trying to avoid being within a couple yards of him."

Once we make it outside, we begin our walk home.

Michelle and I live on the same street, the house I've been in since I was just a few months old right across the street from Michelle's. When her family moved to Pasadena from Seattle, we both weren't any older than six.

And I didn't just get to know Michelle really well. I'm friends with her brother too. Duff, but his real name is Michael. He moved out three years ago, but he still comes around a lot since his band, Guns N' Roses, uses the basement to practice.

They've all been a group for a couple years now, and Michelle and I have been lucky enough to see what they've all created as time has gone on. Their first album is coming out this summer.

"You know, I wish one of them would be nice enough to pick us up. I get lazy."

"Right! I can't wait till we won't have to do this anymore." At this point in the school year, senioritis has set in.

We don't even live that far away from school. Maybe fifteen minutes or so, but it's still annoying day after day.

In front of Michelle's house is a couple cars, all of them belonging to members of the band.

"Oh brother. Here we go. Another afternoon."

I couldn't have said my exact thoughts any better than Michelle just did.


	2. Chapter 2

Duff is the first band member to greet us before we can even set foot on the lawn.

Michelle and I both jump as he sticks his head out of the van next to the sidewalk right as we walk by.

" _Boo!_ "

Michelle slaps Duff once she regains her bearings, and I start laughing.

"Ow! You haven't seen me in a week and this is how you treat me?"

"Yes! You can't just scare people like that," Michelle scolds him.

"I thought it was funny! And so did Chas!" Duff laughs at me laughing.

"'Cause it was!" I agree.

"Now help me with the guitars. I was waiting for you two to get home this whole time."

Michelle is already stomping off towards the steps that lead to her front door, leaving me to help Duff.

"She's cranky today." Duff says as he hands me a Les Paul before somehow managing to get himself out of the van without help.

"Only because you're here."

Michelle's brother is basically her twin, except for the fact that he's older and a guy. Their hazel eyes, and wavy kind of curly blonde hair are all the same.

The only huge difference is their personalities.

Michelle is more sarcastic but still very outspoken and confident, while Duff is reserved and thoughtful unless he's been drinking.

And trust me, consuming alcoholic beverages is one of his favorite activities.

Oh, and Duff is very tall. He stands at six foot three, while Michelle can't be anything over five foot five.

"You're probably right. But at least you don't hate me too," Duff teases.

"Of course not."

We both head up to the house, Duff carrying two guitars and a small amp under one arm.

"How was Seattle?" I ask. Duff just spent the last few days there, playing music with old friends and trying to coordinate shows for the band.

He loves it there, since it was where he spent most of his childhood.

I distinctly remember Duff being twelve years old right when they moved in, and hating everything about California.

A few years ago, there was a big possibility about the whole family moving back. It never happened, but tensions were high for a while. Duff was all for it and Michelle wasn't at all.

"It was great. Much better than the last time you were there," He chuckles.

I recall the time that I tagged along for a few weeks one summer up to Washington. A few days before we were going to head back down the coast, we were on a boat, on Lake Washington. The skin and muscle on Duff's arm got taken off in a freak accident, but luckily the doctor was able to sew him back up and make his arm as good as new.

I remember when we saw Duff's arm that day. Michelle threw up and I cried.

Now that the visual is in my head once again, I cringe. "I hope so. Did you do everything you wanted to?" I refer back to his plans for the band.

"Yeah! I'm really happy with it, we have three gigs set up for a few clubs in a couple weeks. Now I've just got to convince Axl it's worth it."

"You'll be able to. He might be stubborn but I'm sure he'll agree after some persuading." I tell Duff as I walk into the house, heading towards the basement. I set my backpack down near the front door.

I'm relieved of my guitar carrying duties once we make it down the steps, where the rest of the band is setting up all their amps and wires and whatnot to practice.

Izzy Stradlin, the band's brainchild and rhythm guitarist gives me a smile and says thank you as he takes his guitar from my hands.

Axl is nowhere to be found, but I can hear Steven Adler before I see him. He's currently trying to hit Slash, the lead guitarist in the head with what seems like a never ending supply of drumsticks, while Slash throws them right back from behind the nearly priceless drum kit that belongs to Steve. Their laughter is kind of infectious as they act like children, which I guess they sort of are.

In an effort to escape the craziness of downstairs, I sneak back up to the main floor in search of something to drink.

I nearly have a fright for the second time this afternoon once I shut the fridge door and see Axl Rose- the lead singer, and overall leader of the band -standing in the doorway.

"Hey Chas! How are you? "

At school, I am Chasity. But for all intents and purposes to those who know me, I am Chas. Chassy, if you want to throw it back to when I was seven.

My Italian, Catholic parents jumped at the mere idea of naming their child something that represented grace and purity and all the good things in the whole wide world. They spelled it without the extra T on purpose.

"I'm wonderful! My day was just _so_ good. On cloud nine. Couldn't of been better!" I give him a cheery smile, one that's worthy of some cheesy infomercial on cable or something. "How are you doing, Will?"

For all intents and purposes, Axl is called Axl. It's legally that way. But to me, he is William. Axl, more often than not. Will sometimes. If the situation calls for it.

"Axl," He corrects me.

"Chasity," I say.

He drops it, and laughs as he leaves the kitchen instead of teasing me any further.

This is the type of banter we've had for years now.

Since the moment I met him, practically.

Some older kid in the neighborhood decided to pick on Michelle and I one day in freshman year. I had just barely turned fifteen, and was going through a phase where I snapped at everyone for even the tinest things that pissed me off. A teenage right of passage, honestly. So as you can imagine, I really wasn't having it when this kid who was older and a complete bully took Michelle's Health textbook out of her hands and threw it on the ground, but not before calling us a bunch of insults too. So I snapped at him and told him he was a dick (a word that was still new to me-one my parents would've freaked out over if they had heard it come from my mouth at that age.) That was the same exact instant Michelle's brother and Axl drove by in Duff's beat up Toyota before slowing down to hear me yelling at that kid.

The three of them had to persuade me to get into the car. It was Axl who told the kid one final warning. That he had friends, and if he heard we were being messed with, those friends would find that kid.

It was an empty threat, enough to scare the kid into staying away from Michelle and I.

But still, I respected Axl for doing that for two teenage girls he didn't even know, just for the sake of us not having to deal with some jerk.

Something a friend would do. So that was what I considered him from then on. And now, all the guys are my friends.

I can't even enjoy my glass of lemonade for more than two seconds before Michelle is screaming my name like she's in a horror movie.

"C'mon! They're about to start playing and I'm not going to suffer alone!"

I quickly finish what's left in my glass before hurrying out into the living room, towards the door that leads to the basement.

That's when Axl picks me up and throws me over his shoulder, and it's a wonder that he doesn't drop me on the steep wooden stairs.

"You psycho! We're gonna break something!" By that, I mean bones. Axl is practically running down the steps while laughing like this is prime entertainment. All while making me nearly have a heart attack at the age of seventeen.

When he places my feet on the ground at the bottom of the staircase, I hit him as hard as I can in the bicep. What I'm not expecting is for my hand to hurt once it collides with his skin.

When I say "Ow", Axl laughs.

"That's right! Don't even try and beat me up, doll. I've got muscles." He makes a whole show of flexing his arm, and there is indeed a significant amount of muscle there.

Little does he know, I still have the power of words on my side.

"Stop talking to me and go play your songs. I've got plenty of other things I could be doing that are way better than this."

Slash, puts a hand over his heart as Axl flicks me off before going over to his mic stand.

"God, that hurts, Chas." Slash's voice is full to the brim with mock sadness, and his facial expression only helps to convey it.

Normally, his curly hair practically covers his whole face, but today he has it pulled back.

"The truth can be brutal sometimes," I say as I sit down beside Michelle, ready to critique the band on the new songs they have ready. 

"Yeah! So play well, boys. We're not afraid to point out every single mistake you make." Michelle warns. 

Once they're all ready, it's only quiet for a count of three before the room erupts in sound. 


	3. Chapter 3

My little brother's fist collides with the door for the second time in the last five minutes, except he now he doesn't stop.

"Shawn, I know! Just hang on!"

"I gotta brush my teeth! Do your makeup somewhere else!" He sighs loudly, as if his day is ruined before it's even begun.

I unlock the bathroom door, and Shawn comes barreling in, practically stomping.

"Shawn, let your sister get ready." My mother points a finger at him as she stops outside the bathroom door, still in her robe. My sister Layla is right behind her, sticking her tongue out at our brother.

"Yeah, Shawn." I say once my mother and Layla continue on down the hall.

He mimics me in a high voice, scowling at me in the mirror.

Shawn is thirteen, and now that he's in middle school, he's no longer as sweet as he used to be. I get it though, middle school is rough.

Layla is nine, and everyone says she's just like me when I was her age. A social butterfly, but still quiet.

I finish up my mascara, and let Shawn have the bathroom to himself. I go downstairs to get my backpack and something for breakfast.

My father sits at the table in the dining room, already in his suit and tie.

"Good morning dad."

He doesn't look up from the papers in front of him, even when he speaks. "Good morning sweetheart."

"What'cha working on?" I ask from the kitchen as I put two slices of bread in the toaster.

My father's lawyer firm is one of the best in the city.

"It's a big case, I just got it yesterday." He calls loud enough for me to hear in his New York accent. It's not as intense as it was when I was little, but it's still there.

He and my mother both met in New York City. As wild as it is, both of their parents came to the U.S. on the same ship just decades before. They couldn't believe how the universe had aligned itself for them to meet in college. My mother says it was the perfect time. She thinks they were star crossed from the second their parents bought their tickets for America.

Just as I'm done spreading strawberry jelly onto my toast, Shawn and Layla come into the kitchen. Immediately, they start to bicker about where the Cocoa Puffs are.

My mom is here too, talking to Dad. He's given up on trying to get work done, and now he drinks his coffee.

Since Mom doesn't work anymore (she used be a paralegal) she's still in her pajamas.

"Chasity, did you get something to eat honey?" She calls as I begin to put my backpack over one shoulder, half a piece of toast still in my hand. If Michelle and I want to get to class with time to spare, we need to go now. I can already see her waiting by the curb from one of the front windows.

"Yes," I wave the toast in my hand. "I've gotta go."

"You know I won't be here later right? I've got to help my sister with the baby shower."

Great. I'm watching Shawn and Layla for who knows how long after school. 

"Okay," I say. Trying to argue it won't get me anywhere. Babysitting really isn't that bad. I'd just rather hang out with Michelle instead. 

Both of my parents tell me to have a good day, and I yell bye to Shawn and Layla right before I walk out the door.

Today is going to be a long day. I can feel it already. 

***

Once school ends, I remember that Michelle has volleyball practice on Wednesdays when I don't see her in the halls. I have to walk home alone, and won't see her for a couple hours. At least I'll be busy babysitting. 

Still, I frown a little to myself. It's boring without her. 

But I continue on home anyway, down the steps that lead up to the main entrance of my high school. 

It's easy for me to walk in my own little world, so I do, focused on the snack I'm going to make once I get home. 

My daydreaming comes to an end as I approach Axl Rose leaning up against his shiny black Camaro that's parked next to the sidewalk. A sight I'm not prepared to be taking in. _Did_ _I_ _miss something?_

"What are you doing here?" 

"I just wanted to see you. Give you a ride home." He says nonchalantly, with a smile on his face.

"You're too nice Ax, has anybody ever told you that?"

He stares past me, not saying anything. The look on his face goes cold. He really isn't smiling anymore. I know what's happening before it even is.

"Who is that?"

I don't need to look behind me to know who he's talking about. "Dylan."

"He's been staring at you the whole time you were walking over here."

"Yeah, he does that. He stared throughout our whole class too." I can hear the exhaustion in my own voice. "He's been spreading rumors about me. All because I don't want to go out with him. He won't leave me alone, honestly."

Dylan was truly beginning to push my limits as of today. It's like he's always around now. I can never catch a break.

People were starting to talk even more than they already had been about Chasity Novelo being Dylan Reynold's new prospect, and I hated it. Two girls in the bathroom interrupted me touching up my lip gloss just to ask about it.

Boys in my grade whispered as I walked by.

"Get in the car, doll." Axl opens up the passenger side door, and I don't object.

After Axl shuts the door once I'm inside, I look through the window to see Dylan staring at Axl from the top of the stairs. Axl stares right back at Dylan.

Neither of them budge, not until I see the look on Axl's face become even more menacing than before. Dylan then walks off, trying to play it cool. Like that exchange didn't just happen.

Axl walks around the front of the car, gets in, and we drive off. Immediately, I notice the tension that spawned between him and Dylan is gone now that we're leaving.

"You just stay away from him."

"I have been," I say. _As if_ _I_ _hadn't_ _thought of_ _that_ _myself,_ I think. "It's kind of impossible when he's popular."

"And you're not?"

"God no," I laugh. "Why? Do you think I am?"

Axl shrugs, glancing over at me with one hand on the wheel. "You seem like you are."

"And what makes you say that?"

He shrugs some more. I laugh again.

"Because you're so likeable. Every time you walk into a room everyone wants to be around you."

"That's not true. Unless you count your bandmates. And they don't count." I tell him.

"Doesn't change the fact that everyone likes you. Like everyone, Chas. I can't imagine anyone hating you. There aren't any reasons to. Which is why that Dylan guy is a dick."

"Yeah, and your macho man show totally changed everything. Thanks, Axl. You're a life saver!" I resist the urge to laugh.

Axl knows I'm making fun of him, which is why he starts to laugh himself. "Oh, shut up Chas! It was all I could think of without calling him out and making him cry. But I'm sure you would've loved to see that."

"Yes, I would've. Very much so," I nod.

"Well, how about I pick you up tomorrow and we can see if that small experiment worked? I'm already gonna be over here, since Duff and I have to meet with the people who are gonna be mixing the album." Axl says as we pull up in front of my house, and he puts the car in park.

I throw my backpack on again once I'm out of the car.

"As long as I don't have to walk home!" I smile enthusiastically, happy with that idea.

"Bye Chas!"

"Goodbye William!" I wave from the sidewalk.

When I look back before closing the front door, Axl is still smiling from the driver's seat.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dylan sucks, Axl is hot, Chas is in a hard place.

"That was super nice of him!"

"I know! And I really didn't feel like walking yesterday anyways. He said he'd be here today too." I tell Michelle as we walk, the last bell of the day having rung a few minutes ago.

"Damn it!" I can see the shock on her face, like she's just remembered something. "We have another practice today. Kristie and her friends were slacking off yesterday and kept talking." Michelle looks miserable as she speaks.

As much as she loves volleyball, it can be tough. Our school's team has a reputation of being really good, and because of that the coach doesn't tolerate anything but the best.

"Well at least it'll help you do well for the game." I say, trying to cheer her up.

"True," She nods. "But I wish we could veg out and watch MTV instead."

"We can! Tomorrow night."

We're nearly in front of the doors to the gym now, where Michelle needs to be when she has practice.

"Okay. I'll call you tonight. Love ya."

Michelle gives me a hug, and I squeeze her right back before saying bye.

It's as if I can't get out of school fast enough after that.

Today, Dylan tried to put his arm around me in the hallway.

I was minding my own business, trying to get to my finance class when him and all his friends turned around the corner. There was no escaping him at that point, not when my class was still a few halls away.

_"_ _Hey_ _Chas. I_ _figured_ _I can call_ _you_ _that now, right? Since we're_ _going_ _to be so close."_

_"I don't think so," I said simply as I continued to walk down the hall, not even bothering to look at him._

It would've been a waste of precious energy to do so. But I still couldn't help but feel disgusting.

_"Oh, c'mon._ _Everyone_ _thinks we would be so cute."_

That was when it happened. He moved so quick I had no choice but to do what he wanted, his arm practically shoving me into his side.

By the grace of God, an older teacher shouted that there was to be no public displays of affection on school campus, and that if we didn't stop, we would get detention.

I wasn't even thinking when I spoke as soon as I was out of Dylan's grip, and that teacher was nowhere to be found.

Why I said it, I don't really know. But I did, and I can't figure out of it was a mistake or a good idea.

_"I_ _have_ _a boyfriend. That guy yesterday,_ _he's_ _my boyfriend. So you_ _better_ _leave_ _me_ _alone, Dylan._ _He_ _doesn't_ _mess_ _around."_

And I walked away, leaving him there fuming.

Even thinking about it right now makes heat rush to my face.

Axl is definitely _not_ my boyfriend. Not even close! But what else could I say to Dylan, when I've tried everything else?

That display of protectiveness from Axl yesterday was only because he knows Duff, and Axl knows Duff is protective over me the way a brother is.

There is no other explanation. It was simply because he was looking out for me.

And now I've gone and told Dylan that Axl and I are a thing, and Lord knows what will happen now that I've said that to him. Will he hunt Axl down and fight him? Tell him what I said? And if he finds out that it was a lie, what will he do to bother me now?

I get anxiety from thinking about this shitshow I've found myself in the middle of.

_Calm down, Chas. Dylan isn't that crazy._ _He's_ _a teenage boy. He_ _can't_ _do_ _anything._

Somehow, Axl notices there's a problem as soon as I get into his car.

"Just drive. I need to get as far as possible from Dylan."

Axl takes off, going a little bit fast, but I don't care.

"What did he do?"

Now I have to tell him. I have to tell him everything, including what _I_ did.

Except it's too hard to choke out. There is no way I can say it.

"It's nothing. It doesn't matter." I try to say in my most convincing voice, waving it off. "It's alright."

Even though we're not near my house, Axl pulls over without a word, the whole street empty. At first, I think he's mad at me for not telling him. That we're about to argue or something, which we've done pldnty of times before but only about stupid things.

Axl turns towards me, looking the exact opposite of angry. "Chas, you can tell me."

"No, I can't, Axl. It's too embarassing."

"I won't make fun of you, doll. What happened? You're clearly upset."

When I don't say anything, he continues to try and get me to speak on the matter.

"C'mon. I gotta make sure you're alright, sweetheart."

I'll admit it. The terms of endearment make me feel safe, like he won't actually get mad if I tell him.

Axl is not a high school boy who'll get it in his head that I like him based off of the little (actually not so little) white lie I told Dylan about him being my boyfriend. No. Axl is an adult, one who is mature enough to see my reasoning. Nothing will come of me telling him the events of today, save for some laughs here and there. I'm sure of it.

I'm sure of it, until I see Dylan and his bright blue letterman jacket walking down the street up ahead, all by himself. Axl doesn't see, not yet at least. He's too concerned with me.

I pray to God, anyone who is listening really, that Dylan turns the opposite way once he reaches the curb. Except he doesn't. And with each footstep, he gets closer and closer.

"Holy shit-he's right there!"

My heart begins to pound. What will Axl do now? What will Dylan do when he sees me sitting in Axl's car, after what I told him today?

I decide that I can't let this get any more out of hand. Dylan needs to leave me alone, and maybe I was right to tell the lie that I did.

This is the one shot I have to truly be done with dealing with Dylan.

I turn to face Axl now like he did to me earlier, and I see his hand on the doorhandle, as if he's going to get out of the car any second now, Dylan still way ahead. 

"Can I kiss you?" I ask Axl, staring him right in the eye. Biting the bullet. Hell, swallowing it.

The look on his face is one I have trouble translating. Somewhere between shock and curiosity.

"What?" His voice is low, just above a whisper.

I sigh, squeezing my eyes shut. "I'll explain later." I tell him quickly, Dylan so close now. "Can I kiss you?"

Somehow, by the grace of God, I think Axl understands a sliver of what I'm trying to telepathically tell him.

That maybe, just maybe, if it seems like I'm already taken Dylan will forget me.

"We better make this convincing."

I don't know exactly what that entails, and I don't have time to think about it. 

Axl pulls at me by the waist with one hand, and on the hip with the other.

Awkwardly, I scramble into his lap, my knees at either side of his body. I'm in a dress today. I immediately start to feel out of place.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?"

"No," I shake my head, looking at him. He's gonna to laugh at me.

I'm literally a virgin in every sense, and yet, this was _my_ idea.

So I do it, and hope I'm actually doing it right.

I press my lips to Axl's with my eyes shut, placing both my hands over the t-shirt covering his shoulders.

After a few seconds, I move back a little, my face inches from Axl's. I know Dylan still hasn't passed by. I have to do it again.

The mere thought makes my heart beat faster.

"Calm down, Chas. That wasn't so bad." Axl whispers, soothing my nerves a little.

I can't help it when I look down, seeing the floral fabric of my dress bunched up around my thighs, which are flush with Axl's hips. He has jeans on, but I can feel the heat of his body against mine. Axl's hands are on my upper back and I can hardly feel them, his way of trying to be respectful. But I can't help but realize that my crotch is on his.

_Oh my God. OH. MY. GOD. What_ _have_ _I done?_ _I'm_ _making_ _out_ _with_ _a_ _guy_ _who is so_ _much_ _older, and is supposed to be my friend! All so I can_ _prove_ _it to_ _another_ _guy!_

This time, I don't kiss Axl. He kisses me.

And as ashamed as I feel, I know that this is what it's supposed to be like.

Axl's lips are so soft against mine, probably from all the chapstick I sometimes see him put on. He's moving his mouth against mine, too. Not rigid like how I did it. And his hands. I can feel one, on my waist through my dress. Those muscles he was talking about yesterday after I punched him actually exist, and they're solid and smooth beneath my hands. I can't wrap my hands around his arms. Not even close.

I forget the original purpose of this entire thing, unsure of how much time passes. The kisses don't go anything more than deep and slow, no tongue. But I swear that at one point, I can hear both Axl and I make a noise at the same time, a moan like the ones you hear during a makeout on T.V.

Axl is just performing, doing this to help get Dylan to leave me alone. Out of pity. He probably makes out with tons of women, really gorgeous women I bet, all the time. But me, I've never even held hands. The thought of what I'm doing doesn't hit yet, not fully.

Not until Axl and I have to part for air. I see that I've messed up his strawberry blond, reddish hair, and there's lipgloss on his chin. I can feel how swollen my lips are.

_Oh my God._

I don't even need to look out the car to know that Dylan is nowhere in sight. He probably walked by a long time ago!

My mouth is still open, shock still buzzing in my entire body, my heart pounding but not the way it was earlier. It's not from being unsure.

I'm the first one to talk as I try to get off of Axl. "I'm sorry-I took this way too far. I shouldn't have even asked to kiss you in the first place, it was inappropriate-"

"Chas."

Axl just looks at me. I haven't managed to get off his lap. Probably because I really don't want to. All the hormones in me and all my thoughts are screaming at me to kiss him some more. Except I can't.

"It's okay. I get it."

"You do? Because today Dylan was being really gross and he put his arm around me and I hated it and then like an idiot I blurted out that you were my boyfriend even though you're not and I feel really stupid for saying that but it felt like I had no other choice, I've tried everything else to get him to leave me alone but he won't and I don't want you to be mad at me or for this to change our relationship-"

"Chas." Axl says again, this time chuckling a little.

I feel like I'm going to cry as I finally shut up and look at him, my emotions all over the place.

"It's alright. I knew you said something along those lines to him, it was obvious once you asked to kiss me and he was up the street."

"Oh," I shrug. "Well, good."

I notice that I'm unsure of where to look, my eyes wandering all around the car.

In my head, my body is still screaming for the experience I just had to be re-lived.

I feel overwhelmed.

I can smell what has to be Axl's aftershave, it's kind of minty. And something else, cologne or deodorant. He smells like a man.

_Because_ _he is one. Axl is a man. And_ _I'm_ _a_ _teenage_ _girl._

"You're not mad, right?"

Axl shakes his head. "No. I just hope it worked. Otherwise, y'know, we did all that for nothin'." He laughs a little.

"Yeah. Well, I guess I'll find out on Monday." I do the same laugh without even thinking about it. It's awkward.

Suddenly, I remember that I'm still in fact in Axl's lap, only his jeans and my panties in between us.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I'll get off of you-" I place my hands on his shoulders and attempt to move my leg over, but all I manage to do is hit my head in the roof.

"Jeeze! Hang on Chas-"

"It's alright, I've got it." I really do think I've got it this time, and I manage to get my right knee-the one closest to the driver's side door-between Axl's thighs so I can move over without hitting my head.

Axl's hands follow, in an attempt to help steady me and make sure I don't hit my head again. As I move, they come up a little higher, and tug my dress up with it, exposing the front of my underwear.

Now Axl knows that my panties have green polka dots on them.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that, you're just really shakey and I don't want you to get hurt-it's tight in here-"

"It's okay."

I might just die of embarrassment now.

Somehow, I make it over his legs, and fall back onto the leather seat beside him.

We just look at each other for a minute.

"You've got Lip Smackers right here," I put my finger to my own chin, right where there's pink gloss on Axl.

He wipes it away, and hesitantly, I smooth out his hair for him.

"Good?"

"Yeah," I nod.

"Okay." He looks out the windshield for a moment, taking a second to think.

"Well, I should take you home."

"Yeah. My mom is probably wondering where I am." I tell him honestly. 

When I look at the dash after Axl turns the car back on, I see that I'm ten minutes late and counting.

No doubt, my mother is already freaking out.

"Do you think she's going to ask where you were?" Axl wonders.

"Probably, but I'll just say I stopped to talk to my friends for a little bit." I don't say anything more, until I think of the obvious. "Also, uh, I won't tell anyone about this. So you don't have to worry about Duff beating you up or anything."

That would be a whole other can of worms I would hate to open.

No one can know about this. It's between Axl and Dylan and I now.

"I won't tell anyone either," Axl says quietly.

We then drive off, leaving the spot of my first makeout, and panty flash behind.

If someone had told me that Axl Rose would be my first kiss, I wouldn't of believed them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It HAPPENED!!! I wrote this so long ago and it still makes me shook to this day ahhh I hope you liked it! Leave a comment ❤ Thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chas plays it cool. Sort of.

My mother is vacuuming when I come home.

"Where have you been?" She shouts over all the noise.

Suddenly, I feel like a deer in headlights. My mind goes blank.

"Um, I was uh, with Candice! She's in my social studies class! She's really nice!" As soon as I stop talking, I can hardly even remember what I said. I need to get to my room. I can't talk to anyone right now.

"Okay!" My mother goes back to vaccuming at that, and I take it as my cue to go.

I run up the stairs, and I don't stop until I reach my room. My fingers slam down on the lock as soon as the door is shut. I set my backpack down on the floor before kicking off my converse.

 _What_ _a day,_ I think as soon as I sit down on my bed, my hands clutching at the pink comforter.

I woke up today and thought it was going to be a regular day. School, homework, hanging out with Michelle, dinner with my family. Just a typical Friday.

It's insane how things can get out of hand so quickly.

The events of today were like a snowball. It was very tiny when Dylan started staring in second period. Then, it got bigger when he put his arm around me. By the time I had said those four words, _"I have a boyfriend",_ it was gigantic. And when I kissed Axl, it came rolling, and crushed me underneath it.

_I_ _kissed_ _Axl._

I wish that I could say I didn't enjoy it. It would make this easier to deal with.

 _I liked it. It was fun, and Axl knows_ _what_ _he's_ _doing. That's_ _for_ _sure._

So what does that say about me?

That I'm a slut, because I kissed a twenty-five year old man and I didn't hate it, not at all?

But most importantly, what does this say about Axl and I?

Can we still be friends?

Even though I don't have any experience in the romance department, I like to think that I'm able to understand people pretty well, especially those I'm close to. And I'd say I'm close to Axl, even before today. I've known him for three years now. I've spent countless hours around him, not only talking about his band but about all sorts of things.

I know his history, how he left his hometown in Indiana for L.A.. He prefers Coca Cola over Pepsi. He's stubborn when it comes to things relating to his music and his band, but he's kind and funny and cares about his friends.

And based on all my years not only around him, but watching television, movies, reading magazines, and hearing gossip from various sources, I feel like I'm making an educated guess when I say that he didn't hate it either.

I just don't know what that means. For me, or for Axl and I's relationship.

I wish I could talk to Michelle and hear what she has to say. She can't keep a secret though, especially when it's something like this. She would be appalled.

It's one thing to think that someone older is attractive, and they're famous and unattainable. It's a whole _other_ thing when you don't know how you feel after kissing someone who is older, and they're a close friend.

Honestly, that was more than just a kiss. Even I know that.

I was on top of him, in his car! He saw my underwear! We made out for like, five minutes! Not even a mile away from my own neighborhood! What if someone I know, or someone who knows my mother had seen?

If my parents found out, I can't even imagine the amount of trouble I would be in.

For no reason at all, I get up off my bed and go to the stand up mirror in the corner of my room with all the magazine cutouts stuck to it. The afternoon sunshine floods into my room from the window, and covers my whole body as I stand before the mirror.

I look like me. I'm still a brunette with wavy hair and my eyes are still blue and my fingernails are still painted a pale pink.

I watch the blush spread over my cheeks as I think about it all over again. I'm not gonna be able to maintain my composure the next time I see Axl.

Sometime later, when I'm trying to distract myself by doing homework, that one question comes to mind again.

_What will_ _happen_ _to Axl and I now?_

The only true way to find out is by trying to proceed as normal, I suppose.

To wait, and see what happens the next time we meet.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Axl's a sweetheart, and so is Chas honestly. 
> 
> Warning: things get steamy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot FOR THE LIFE OF ME upload any of the gifs on wattpad over here if anyone knows how to upload gifs on an android please let me know ❤❤❤

"Chas! Guess what!"

"What?" I call from my spot on the couch, about to inhale another handful of popcorn.

"The band is coming over and they're bringing pizza-Well actually it's only Duff and Ax and Izzy!"

I nearly choke.

So this is when it happens, huh? Tonight will be the first time I see Axl since yesterday, when I lost my kiss virginity.

_Not if I can help it._

"No!"

Slowly, I can see Michelle stick her head through the kitchen doorway, the phone now pressed into her shoulder.

"What? You don't want pizza? Because I do-"

"We look terrible!" I tell her, gesturing towards my pajama pants. They have Christmas trees on them. It's Spring. And not to mention, I've already taken off my mascara and my hair is a mess.

When Michelle said we could stay at her house tonight because her parents are on a business trip, I didn't prepare for any other eyes besides Michelle's. And she doesn't care what I look like. But Axl might. Well, it's more about how I feel in front of him than his opinion of my appearance that matters.

Because without a doubt, he's going to look well, good. And if I'm going to have to talk to him after yesterday, I need all the confidence I can get. And that doesn't come from an old t-shirt with holes in it.

"Who gives a shit?! I'm hungry, and I'm not eating microwave popcorn all night." She hisses at me before bringing the phone up to her ear, and bringing our debate to a close.

I begin to panic internally.

_Oh God._ _He's_ _going_ _to_ _get here, and look nice and_ _I'm_ _going_ _to look like a mess and clam up and make this_ _awkward_ _and then everyone will know what's up._

"-She's just complaining about how we're already in our pajamas."

"Don't tell them!" I groan, wishing I could slap my hand over Michelle's mouth.

I hear her laugh in the kitchen before she tells them to hurry, and then says bye.

When she comes back into the living room and sits down beside me, I ask her how long she thinks it'll be before they get here.

"Michael said an hour."

And what an hour of hell it is.

I try my best to focus on the T.V. where Sixteen Candles is playing, but it's nearly impossible.

I wonder if Axl and I will even talk about it, if we manage to end up alone with no one eavesdropping. Or maybe if I try to bring it up he'll shut me down. I can't decide on what _I_ want to have happen in an ideal situation.

Somehow, I manage to chill out. _Everything_ _will be fine._

When my eyes get heavy, I don't fight to stay awake.

***

"Chas. . . You've gotta get up. I saved you pizza." 

As soon as I open my eyes, it registers in my brain that the voice waking me up belongs to the man crouching on the floor before the couch. Axl. 

"Hi, honey." Axl smiles at me, but it isn't just a quick, small smile. It starts slowly, his eyes crinkling as the grin starts in the center of his lips and spreads outwards. 

"Hi." 

He just smiles some more, and it's contagious. 

"C'mon. I made sure we got strawberry ice cream just for you." Axl says as he helps me up off the couch, my head a little fuzzy from falling asleep I don't even know how long ago. 

"Thanks," I say genuinely. 

Pretty much everyone I've ever met thinks that strawberry ice cream is boring and that there's plenty of other flavors that are better and more exciting. And that might be true, but it holds a special place in my heart. I don't really know why, but it does. 

And here Axl is, remembering that small fact. _Strange._

"It was the least I could do for helping crash your sleepover. And for waking you up." Even more strange, Axl sounds genuine himself. 

Normally we'd have ten fights to pick with each other by now. 

As soon as I walk into the kitchen, I realize that no one else is around. "Where's Michelle?" 

That's the exact moment that I hear a guitar coming from downstairs. 

"She's listening to Duff and Iz play her part of a new song. We can't decide if we like it enough to put it on the record." 

"Oh. Okay." I leave it at that. As much as I enjoy helping the band, it's nice to have a night off. "And why aren't you down there too?" 

As soon as I stop speaking, I see how that question can be taken. More of a " _You've clearly_ _got_ _a motive to_ _want_ _to wake me up when_ _everyone_ _else is busy does this mean our_ _makeout_ _meant something",_ and that's not my intention. Maybe my general nervousness of being around him after what happened is making me overthink it. 

Luckily, Axl doesn't think of it that way. At least I don't think so. 

I make the decision to stop worrying about it. If we talk about what happened, we do. If we don't, we don't. Immediately, my chest feels lighter.

"'Cause. I wanted to make sure you ate. Michelle said you guys never had dinner." 

Again, so much. . . Thoughtfulness. Something I'm not used to from him. 

"You didn't have to do that. How long was I asleep?"

"We've only been here for half an hour or so. Maybe a little longer." Axl leans against the kitchen counter. 

I assess how many slices of cheese pizza everyone's left for me after grabbing a plate. 

There's three, which is two more than I had anticipated. I put them all on my plate before putting it in the microwave. 

Once I'm seated at the kitchen table, Axl speaks. 

"So how are you? How's your day been?" He leans back in his chair a little, brushing his hair out of his face as he talks. It's getting so long. 

"Boring. This is the most exciting part," I pick off a piece of pepperoni from the slice in my hand before eating it. "Having pizza at midnight." 

Axl smiles at that. 

"How are you?" I ask.

"I'm doin' okay."

"Where's the rest of your disciples?" 

That makes him crack more than a smile. He laughs out loud. 

"They're out with some guys from L.A. Guns." 

"Didn't you used to sing for them?" I ask, swallowing. 

"Mhm," He hums. 

"Then why aren't you out partying too?"

Why on Earth would Axl want to spend his Friday night at his friend's kid sister's house? 

Just as I pick up my second slice, he responds. 

"Because I was just _dying_ to see you. It was super important to me. Right at the top of my to-do list. _Bring_ _Chasity_ _her_ _ice cream_." 

"You actually write a to-do list?" 

"Do I look like I have my life together to you? Sweetheart, I'm a mess." He could be joking. Or maybe he's serious. I can't tell. 

"What problems are plaguing William Axl Rose? Inquiring minds want to know." 

He sighs, as if this list is more massive than the to-do list that he doesn't have. "Adult stuff." 

I was expecting some serious, juicy details. Some late night gossip. Not that shit. " _Adult_ _stuff."_

So I think my response of narrowing my eyes and staring at him is more than appropriate. 

"You're rude." 

"How am I rude?" He puts an offended look on his face. 

"Don't treat me like I'm ten, William. Give me the dirty details! Tell me about how your rent is late, and that you're worried you'll be sleeping on a bench in a park or something! That you're frustrated with the album and want to throw it all away! Anything but _'adult stuff.'_ "

"Okay, okay. You got me. That last part is true." 

I have to pause as I'm wiping pizza grease off my fingers with a napkin. "No way. You're kidding."

"It's true," He nods. "Had a little melt down today. Don't tell anyone." 

"My lips are sealed," I say solemly. 

"I went in to the studio by myself to listen to some of the songs, and I just. . ." He searches for the right word for a second. "Freaked out. I panicked, Chas." 

"About what? Everyone sounds great, the guitars are awesome and Duff's parts are genius and Steven is just a big ball of energy-"

"Exactly. The problem is me." 

"No!" I practically shout, not wanting to hear it. He's wrong. 

"Yes," He counters. 

"You are a mastermind, Axl. No one sings like you. No one writes like you. You're doing everything right." I try to reassure him before taking a bite of my pizza. 

"Except I'm not. I get off pitch and even though no one else says they can hear it, I can and it bothers me so much. It's all little things but they keep piling up. I want to re-do the whole thing." 

"Axl," I start. "I would bet money that Guns N' Roses is going to become huge. If I had any, that is. And I'm talking like, life savings. You guys are so unique- _you_ are so unique. And I know people are going to love the album as much as I do already, and I've only heard it on dingy guitars in a basement." 

I don't hear a word out of Axl, not until I look up to make sure he's still here. 

"That's sweet, doll. It means a lot to me."

"Well, it's just the truth."

I know I sound shy all of the sudden, and when Axl smiles all I manage is one back. 

He stays with me after I finish the pizza and move onto a bowl of ice cream. He has one himself after I insist on fixing him one too. Down in the basement, we can hear Michelle and Duff and Izzy laugh, playing all the instruments that they have at their disposal. 

Axl and I join them after dessert, and the guys come to the conclusion that they might as well crash in the basement so they don't have to drive all the way back to Los Angeles in traffic. 

I start to fall asleep for the second time tonight, except now I'm ready for a real bed. I say goodnight, tugging Michelle up the steps with me. When we get to her room, I only have enough energy left to pull back the covers on her queen sized bed and climb in before falling asleep for the rest of the night.

*** 

_I wake up, parched. When_ _I_ _look_ _at the Barbie clock Michelle has had for_ _years_ _that's_ _on the nightstand, it says three A.M._

_My feet hit the softness of the_ _carpet_ _as I slide off the bed, Michelle still asleep. I make_ _sure_ _to_ _quietly_ _shut the_ _door_ _behind me, then walk down the hall to the stairs. I fix the strap of my tank top as it begins to fall, glancing at the shorts that barely cover my_ _legs._

_I shiver a little, hearing the hum of the air conditioning as I continue on to the kitchen_ _to_ _get water. Something_ _I've_ _done at Michelle's house in the_ _middle_ _of the night plenty of times before_ _._

_The kitchen is_ _dark_ _, but I_ _don't_ _bother_ _turning_ _on any lights as I go over to the_ _cabinet_ _where all the_ _cups_ _are stored._

_I can feel the scream forming in my throat as soon as I feel a warm hand on my middle,_ _clutching_ _my waist. But then another hand is coming_ _up_ _to my mouth, covering it. Keeping me quiet._

_"Sshh,_ _it's_ _me Chas._ _Don't_ _freak out."_ _Axl's_ _voice_ _is right beside my ear, dropping his hand. It grazes over my hip now._

_I set the plastic_ _cup_ _in my hand on the_ _counter_ _before_ _turning_ _around to face him_ _, still touching._

_The little bit of light coming in_ _from_ _the window_ _above_ _the sink makes Axl's hair shine, and I_ _realize_ _that_ _he's_ _shirtless._ _He's in the jeans he was wearing earlier. The tight ones._

_But_ _I_ _don't_ _have any_ _more_ _time to think_ _about_ _how good he looks,_ _because_ _he's_ _hoisting_ _me up on_ _the_ _counter, the cup_ _clattering_ _to the floor. I_ _can't_ _interject_ _about_ _how_ _loud_ _it is on the tile, not_ _when_ _Axl kisses me._

_This time,_ _it's_ _better than yesterday afternoon. I_ _can_ _feel every inch of my body_ _against_ _his. The_ _thinness_ _of my_ _tank_ _top practically makes it as if it isn't there at all. Axl stands between_ _my_ _spread legs, his thighs keeping me steady on the counter where_ _I_ _just barely sit. Just barely, so that_ _he's_ _able_ _to press his lower_ _half_ _against_ _mine._

_"_ _That_ _feels so good." I gasp as Axl grinds his hips. His lips are at my neck and my arm is slung over his back. Keeping him close._

_"_ _I've_ _been_ _waiting_ _to do this. Ever since yesterday. God, you have no idea Chas." He says against my skin._

_I let_ _out_ _shaky breaths, his body_ _moving_ _against mine feeling better and better as time goes on. I almost pout as he backs up,_ _taking_ _his hands_ _off_ _me. I lean_ _back_ _into my arms, planting them on top of the counter._

_"In these cute little shorts. . ." Axl begins to crouch down, his hands on my thighs._ _They're_ _so big_ _they_ _nearly wrap right_ _around_ _me. "I bet your panties are even cuter, huh?"_

_I hope that the look_ _I_ _give Axl conveys_ _my_ _thoughts well enough:_ 'You're gonna kill me if you keep it up.' 

_All he does is grin as he begins to tug the tiny black shorts_ _I'm_ _wearing_ _down my legs. I help him out by lifting myself up some,_ _making_ _it easier._ _I've_ _never wanted a piece of clothing off of me so badly before._

_Once_ _he's_ _got them_ _around_ _my ankles,_ _he_ _stops, looking_ _back_ _up at me again._

_"C'mon Axl! Please. . ."_ _I'm_ _begging now._

_He_ _doesn't_ _look_ _away_ _from my face as_ _he_ _pulls them off the rest of the way._ _They_ _fall_ _to_ _the floor, and he stands once again, his_ _hands_ _moving_ _back up_ _my_ _thighs._

_Both_ _our_ _heads look_ _down_ _at_ _his movements,_ _my_ _whole body shaky with anticipation of_ _what_ _he's_ _going_ _to do now. He_ _spreads_ _my thighs, even_ _wider_ _than they were earlier._

_"I was right. They are cute," He laughs._

_I can feel my face heat up as I look at the white lace. It comes up from the V of my thighs and wraps_ _high_ _up on my hips._

_Axl lets a few fingers spread_ _over_ _the_ _top of my_ _pubic_ _bone, right up to where a small pale_ _pink_ _bow sits. "Like a god damn present."_

_Oh my God._

_I look_ _back_ _up at Axl's face to see that_ _he's_ _staring at me. Out of the corner_ _of_ _my eye, I see his arm move, his bicep flexing a bit. And I feel his movements, too. Right over my core._

_My_ _head_ _snaps down, seeing his fingers_ _press_ _into my underwear as_ _he_ _drags them_ _up_ _and down slowly._

_All_ _I_ _manage_ _is a breathy sigh._

_"_ _Bet this is new."_

_"_ _Don't_ _stop."_

_"I won't, doll."_

_Axl's free hand_ _comes_ _up to my chest once_ _he_ _sees the outline of my nipples_ _through_ _the thin cotton. I arch up into_ _his_ _touch,_ _crying_ _out._

_"Kiss me," I whisper._

_And he does. His lips press to mine sweetly,_ _like_ _it's_ _all so innocent. Like he_ _isn't_ _exploring my body._ _Like_ _my underwear aren't soaked and I'm not moaning into his mouth._

_As he kisses the corner of my lips, I_ _remember_ _that_ _I'm_ _sitting_ _on Michelle's_ _kitchen_ _counter._ _Everyone_ _is asleep. Out of nowhere, it feels hotter in here._

_It's_ _like_ _my_ _hands_ _can't_ _move fast enough, my lips still on Axl's. I_ _fumble_ _with Axl's belt, frowning_ _after_ _we pull away when I can barely manage to_ _get_ _it somewhat off of him._

_"Let me do it," Axl laughs a little at my attempt. He takes_ _his_ _hands off of me,_ _bringing_ _them_ _down_ _to his belt buckle._

_I_ _don't_ _waste another second before pulling my underwear_ _off_ _. . ._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chas doesn't know how to act. That's it.

I wake up with the feeling of Axl's touch all over my body. My heart is pounding.

_What in the world. . ._

I just had a wet dream about Axl Rose.

Okay, _this_ is embarassing.

I send up a silent thank you to the universe for Michelle not being in the room to see me at a time like this.

I look over at the nightstand. It's a little past nine.

Then, I can't help but lift up the covers, and my pajama pants. Low and behold, there they are. Those same white lace underwear from my dream. The same ones Axl called cute.

"Oh my God." I stare up at the ceiling, letting the band of my pants snap against my skin.

I really just had a dream that Axl and I had sex.

It felt so real. My dreams have always been extremely vivid.

And to make matters worse, it all happened on the same kitchen counter that people are cooking breakfast on right now. I can smell the pancakes.

I roll over, burying my head in the pillows.

I thought last night went well. That we weren't awkward, or flirty. It was just like before. I mean, except for the fact that we weren't mean to each other. 

That kiss-well, that makeout-that happened two days ago now was to get Dylan to take a hint. It was not because of any romantic or even sexual feelings.

Why is my body betraying me like this? Does my subconscious know something I don't?

I can't even sit here and contemplate those questions in my head. I have to get up and have breakfast. My hunger outweighs how flustered I am.

_I wonder if he_ _would_ _actually_ _like_ _them_ _._ _They're_ _way sexier than the ones he_ _actually_ _saw._. .

I have to stop! I cannot do this to myself.

"Just go have breakfast, Chas." I have to try and console myself somehow, and talking out loud usually helps. "It's fine. He doesn't know, and he won't unless I tell him. And I won't."

I can do this. _I can._

After I fix my hair though.

I realize I'm wildly unprepared when I waltz into the kitchen and find Duff making pancakes, Izzy cooking bacon, Michelle drinking a mimosa, and Axl dressed exactly like he was in my godforsaken dream.

They all call out good morning to me, and I try not to collapse at the sight of Axl.

_This is all too much to handle_ _right_ _now._

"Morning kid! Here," Duff shoves a plate of pancakes into my hands. They look perfect, and I'm not surprised. He used to work in a resturant, and before that a bakery. The guy knows how to cook. "And if you want a mimosa too," He looks up and gives Michelle somewhat of a dirty look. "Tell Michelle to make you one. She thinks she's a bartender or something now."

"Oh, shut up! I'm drinking socially. You used to do way worse at our age." Michelle says, taking a sip of the drink in her hand. She's still in her pajamas.

Out of the two of us, Michelle's always been the more rebellious one. The most alcohol I've had was two glasses of red wine at Christmas last year.

"You're so lucky our parents aren't here," Duff warns as he flips a pancake.

Michelle just waves him off, topping off her glass with more champagne. One of the bottles her parents kept in the alcohol cabinet, I'm sure.

I grab the syrup and two slices of bacon off the plate Izzy is putting them on once they're done.

As I'm turning around to go sit, I feel myself brush up against Axl's arm. His whole body, really.

I try to not drop the plate in my hands.

"Sorry honey." Axl's hand rests on the small of my back.

"It's okay." I clutch my plate harder between my fingers, unable to look at him. I know that if I do, I'll blush even more.

I can't say that I blame myself for being this way. It's not like Axl is ugly. Not even close. Even as he cuts his pancakes he looks good.

"Are you okay Chas? You're all red, sweetheart."

I look up at Axl, my heart pounding. _He knows something is up._

"I'm fine," I say. I don't even sound like myself.

"Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah." I nod a little too much.

The conversation shifts as soon as Izzy sits down, and Michelle brings her champagne bottle into the dining room with her. Duff threatens to dump it down the sink while I try my hardest to not think about Axl kissing me.

When I go to the kitchen to put my plate in the sink, my eyes land on the exact spot I was in my dream. I can feel my face burn.

_It never even happened! None_ _of_ _it is real, no matter how much it seemed to be. No matter how realistic it was, I will never kiss Axl again._ That _is what's real._

I book it from the room, worried I'll draw attention to myself if I keep staring at what appears to be nothing.

Axl is still walking around half naked. Michelle is tipsy. Izzy's drinking now.

I need time to think. 

"I'll be at my house! Don't leave without saying bye!"

I don't wait to hear anyone's responses when I shut the front door behind me.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dylan makes another appearance, and this chapter serves to remind us all about how mucn high school physical education classes suck.

School is hitting me like a ton bricks.

I struggle to keep my eyes open as our P.E. teacher lectures us about the rules of the class for the first time since the beginning of the school year. My class is only seniors, and a lot of people have been ditching. The coaches are officially sick of it.

My mind still races despite everything going on around me. It doesn't help that I'm exhausted, either.

Staying up half the night tossing and turning because you're going through a self induced existential crisis isn't ideal. Especially when it deals with the lead singer of your not-so brother's band who you kissed and had a wild dream about.

When Michelle rushed into my room and announced that Duff, Izzy, and Axl were leaving, it only added to my frazzled state. I had no choice but to go through with what I said before I bolted. Saying bye wasn't an emotional ordeal-it was awkward. I didn't know what to do with myself.

_Do I hug him? Do I ask when I'll see him again? Am I acting like myself? Why am I so nervous in the first place?_

All these things were running through my mind just as Axl opened his arms and I stepped into them without a second thought. I'm blaming it on my teenage hormones that still hadn't leveled off from the dream my imagination concocted.

Getting very little sleep did make me realize one thing:

Axl and I haven't been at each other's throats.

It's so weird!

I don't even really know why we butt heads. It's just something we've always done.

Seriously, we usually find anything and everything to debate about. This entire weekend has been fight free.

But you know what? I'm not going to contemplate it. Whatever! Enough out of this world stuff has already happened between Axl and I, literally and in my head. Us being civil is a good thing, no matter how it's come about.

I really don't have any more time to guess on it, not when Michelle starts tugging me up and off the bleachers. I didn't even realize we were moving on now.

I already told her that I was up studying last night, and she bought it.

"Don't pass out on me," Michelle warns.

"I won't," I sigh.

I quickly figure out that we're now being allowed to do whatever we want. _Thank God._

Free time is actually just Michelle and I pretending to look busy when really, we're talking.

Once we've found a somewhat shady location near a big oak tree around some other groups of people (yes, people-we have a co-ed P.E. class) I try my hardest not to sit down.

Even though I'm out of the sun and my hair is tied up, it's humid in California during the spring. The combination of being tired and hot is horrible.

"I'll be right back. I have to talk to Bonnie about the precalc test."

"Okay." I hardly even listen to what Michelle is saying, my eyes staying on the grass. _Maybe_ _if_ _I_ _ask_ _to_ _go to the nurse, Mom will_ _come_ _pick me_ _up_ _early. But then she'll call dad_ _and_ _he'll worry. Nevermind. . ._

I'm still plotting ways to get myself home and in bed when I realize that Dylan Reynolds is walking towards me.

_Oh, for_ _the_ _love of God. We're really_ _going_ _to_ _talk_ _right_ _now? I was_ _hoping_ _to_ _push_ _it_ _back as far as possible._

During lunch today, I ate outside to ensure I wouldn't run into Dylan. I took the long way to all of my classes.

I've been avoiding him at all costs, and it's now, in P.E. when I'm exhausted and trapped on the field that we have to talk.

Our class is so big I forgot he was even in this period.

I don't feel bad when I give him a dirty look. Not even a little. It's a warning, really. For him to leave me alone.

He smiles at me like he's in the Sears catalog. Shiny white teeth and all. "Hey Chas."

I resist the urge to back up a couple steps at that. _I never_ _want_ _to_ _hear him call me that_ _ever again._

Even when I take the route of ignoring him, he just keeps on going. "Some boyfriend you've got, Chas. He drives a Camaro? I had no idea that the front row of the newer models were big enough for two people to fit in the driver's seat at the same time."

"Oh yeah, they've got plenty of room. The roof could be a little higher though." I don't bother trying to play it off. I did what I did to prove a point, after all. And he's taking the bait.

"I'm sure. . ." He can't even finish, because he doesn't even know his name.

"Axl. His name is Axl. Maybe you've heard of him. He's in Guns N' Roses, the rock n' roll band. And you wanna know what the best part is? He's a great kisser." I don't even have to lie. It's the truth.

I should stop, but I can't help myself. "So like I already told you, quit bothering me. Axl is my boyfriend."

Those words feel so foreign in my mouth. Ones I know are so out of this world, that they literally have no meaning. Dylan doesn't know that though.

"You're lying."

_Maybe_.

"No, I'm not-"

"He isn't your boyfriend. Everyone in this school knows you're a virgin, Chasity. A guy like that wants someone with experience. I wonder how much you had to beg him to even kiss you one time."

I'll be honest. His words sting.

"My V-card status is none of your business. And you don't know Axl. Not at all."

"I know that this is all your way of getting me to leave you alone. And it's really not working. So just go on a date with me, Chas."

"You're a real idiot, Dylan. He's not going to be happy when he finds out that you're pathetic enough to harass me even after seeing me on top of him, for God's sake."

He laughs at that. "I have to say, _I_ wasn't happy when I saw you on top of him. Maybe that makes him and I even now. I'd still like to kick his ass though."

"Good luck with that!" I call out to him as I walk away. I look over my shoulder to see him standing there, all chipper still.

Just as I hear the whistle, I rejoin Michelle.

"I did not just see you talking to Dylan."

"It was nothing." I walk beside her, heading towards the double doors to the locker room. "Just him harassing me as usual and being creepy."

"I'm ready to beat him up," Michelle mutters.

That's all we say to one another before going inside and getting changed back into our regular clothes.

It's not like I can relax now that this class is over, because Dylan is in the next one too! Study hall.

Once the bell rings, Michelle and I walk with people we know in a big crowd. Everyone's going to the same part of the building, so we have company the entire way, which I'm grateful for.

I spend the next hour of school trying to not asleep as I get homework done. I make sure to sit far, far away from Dylan. Every time I feel his eyes on me, I try my hardest to not look up at him and give him the finger.

I mostly feel embarassed. I thought I was being convincing, with my assurances that Axl isn't just a friend. I really tried.

Of course, there's the possiblity that Dylan does believe it, he just doesn't want to.

It still feels as if I'm stuck within his grasp, maybe even more so now. I feel a little bit sick as I think about it.

Even though things were good (but different) the last time Axl and I saw each other, I know I can't downplay Axl's involvement. I can't just not talk to him about Dylan, or act like that day on the empty street never happened.

That was the first time I ever experienced something like that, and call me sentimental, but I can't just try to forget it.

Especially when it happened with Axl.

I tell myself that as soon as I get a chance to later tonight, I'm going to call him. 

*** 

Now that I'm at home, I can't actually bring myself to pick up the phone. 

_Just_ _do_ _it, Chas!_ _You've_ _called him before! This_ _isn't_ _any different. All you_ _have_ _to_ _do is call, and he'll answer and before_ _you_ _know it, you'll have done it!_ _Do_ _it._

I stare at the pink phone on my beside table. The one I had to beg to get.

Adding an extra line wasn't something my parents particularly liked the idea of. The only other phone in the house is all the way in the kitchen. If you don't want everyone to hear your conversation, you have to take the phone into the bathroom and hope the chord doesn't break. 

I'm almost mad at myself for spending three months persuading my parents to let me get a phone, only to not even use it when I need to. Like right now. 

_You've_ _already kissed him. How hard can_ _calling_ _him be?_

My mind goes blank as I impulsively reach across my bed, pick up the phone, and dial the number of the band's apartment. 

They had a house that the record label got them, but not anymore. That got shut down the second they threw a party and people trashed the place. Now, they're living in an apartment that's really two units put together so there's enough space for all of them. 

It doesn't even ring four times when I hear a click. 

"Yo, it's Stevie!"

Instantly, I calm down. He won't give a shit when I ask for Axl. Thank God. "Hi! Is Axl there?" 

"He is! You wanna talk to him?" 

"Yeah." 

Even though he's not talking to me, I can still hear him clearly. "Axl! Chassy's on the phone and she wants to talk to you!" 

I hear a bunch of rustling and commotion before the line goes silent for a second, almost as if the connection's been lost. 

"Hey Chas! What's up?" 

"Oh, nothing." My hands play with the ends of the throw blanket on the bed next to me as I talk. "I just uhm, I wanted to know if you were coming around anytime soon? I need to talk to you. I saw Dylan today and it's too long of story to explain over the phone." I push past my nerves and attempt to sound a little more serious, but not so much that I worry him or anything. That's the last thing I want to do. 

"I can come any time you want me to." 

"Are you busy tomorrow? I'd hate to take you away from the studio, I know you're busy." I can hear the blood rushing in my ears. 

"Don't worry about it sweetheart. I'm not too busy to see you. "

Axl laughs, and it makes me feel less ridiculous about this whole thing. 

"How about I come over tomorrow night?" 

"That's fine," I nod even though he can't see me. "That's good."

"Alright, doll. I should be over around six or so. I'll see you then." 

"Okay, bye." If I thought I didn't sound like myself when I last talked to him, I _really_ don't now. 

"Bye Chas." 

I hear my mother call that dinner's done just after I set the phone back on the hook. It's like my body is on autopilot as I walk downstairs and into the kitchen. 

My father isn't home yet, but that usually doesn't stop us from having dinner around the same time every night. 

"Chasity, did you figure out what you're doing tomorrow night?" 

I catch myself just before I let it be known that I invited Axl Rose over to our house without permission, or even thinking about it at all. I just did it. 

"No. Why?" I continue putting my plate together as Layla squeezes past me to get to the refrigerator. 

"Your father and I are going to a dinner for the firm, remember? And your brother and sister are going to Aunt Elisa's since we're going to be home so late." 

Shawn groans about not wanting to go from the dining room, and my mom tells him to knock it off. 

"As I was saying," She looks back at me with a smile. "Why don't you see what Michelle is doing?" 

"I will. We'll probably hang out here." 

"Okay, that's fine."

Just as my mother walks out of the kitchen, plate in hand, she gives me one last smile. 

It's funny how everything works out perfectly sometimes. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Axl's a total babe!

Axl's body falls onto the hardwood floor of my bedroom with a loud thud. 

"You could've used the front door you know!" My sides already hurt from laughing at him. 

He climbed up the side of the house by the wooden trellis! It's a miracle that he didn't hurt himself in the process. 

When I saw his face right outside my window, I screamed. 

"Yeah well, I didn't know if your parents were here or not. I didn't think they'd appreciate me comin' over and being friendly at this hour." 

Axl holds out his arm, and I help pull him up from the ground. 

"They're not here," I tell him again. "My dad has a work thing and my mom tagged along. My brother and sister are at our aunt's." 

They all left an hour ago, and ever since I've been anticipating Axl's arrival. 

"So they don't know I'm here?" He asks. 

"No. I didn't think it would go over well myself," I shrug. 

Michelle doesn't know anything either. My parents think she's here right now, but really she's out God knows where with a potential boyfriend. I'm supposed be covering for her. 

We've both got our own secrets I guess. 

For a moment, I think Axl is mad that I haven't been very honest. But then he grins and shakes his head. 

"You're sneaky, Chas. Who knew you had it in you." 

I scowl up at him. "I've broken the rules plenty of times before." Like when I kissed you. 

"Sure you have," Axl teases. 

I notice his eyes wander beyond me, looking around. 

"I've never been in your room before." 

I don't say anything as I watch him walk towards my vanity. 

His eyes brush over the pictures I have framed of Michelle and I, and the lipstick tubes that are neatly lined up. How the drawers of my dresser are slightly off kilter from being old and stuffed with lots of clothes over the years. The posters on the wall beside the window that cover the faint pink paint. My bedspread that matches. The stand up mirror in the corner near my closet that has magazine cutouts of Madonna and various ads stuck to the sides. My bookbag beside it. 

He looks at everything that shows I'ved lived here my whole life, smiling every so often. Except I can't figure out if it's of amusement or not. 

This is probably the first time he's been in a teenage girl's room since he was a teenager himself. 

"If it's too girly in here we can go downstairs." 

I had no idea that showing Axl my room for the first time would be awkward, but here we are. 

He shakes his head. "It's fine." 

"It reflects you perfectly. Everything." 

"Oh, thanks." I smile quickly, hoping to fill up the silence. "How was the drive here? I hope it wasn't too bad." 

Axl gives me a look as he leans against the wall on his side, crossing his arms. "It was fine, Chas. Stop worrying about me. I'm here to hang out with you because I want to." His voice is soft even though he speaks at a regular volume. 

"I just don't want to inconvenience you. I know my stupid high school drama is nothing compared-" 

"Chaaassss," Axl whines, laughing. "Don't invalidate your own problems. Just get on with it! I wanna know already, doll."

"Okay, okay." 

I gather my thoughts as I go to sit down on my bed. Then, I launch right into the entire story, starting at the beginning of the day with Dylan's presence lurking all over school, to our actual conversation in P.E., and then the end of the day in independent study. 

One thing Axl doesn't know is that I leave out the extremely embarrassing part-when Dylan decided to jab low and bring up my virginity and how Axl probably took pity on me. 

Based on his nods and facial expressions as I give him the play by play, I know Axl pays close attention to what I'm saying. This, I appreciate. 

He actually cares. Wow. Michelle, who's an actual teenager doesn't even give this much of a shit about it. But Axl does. The twenty-something rockstar that has a million things to do does. What a good friend he is. 

Once I'm done, Axl and I are both silent. 

He sits backwards on the chair at my vanity now, his arms resting on the back. He shrugs his shoulders. "There's nothing to do now except kick his ass." 

I'll be honest-I ponder on that for a heartbeat. Michelle did suggest the same thing yesterday. "He's on the football team. I wouldn't even be able to get in a punch!" 

"I would be the one throwing the punches." 

I can feel my eyes widen. "No! Axl, you can't beat him up! You'll put him in the hospital! You could be arrested-I don't want you to. I don't want you to go to jail, and I don't want you to hurt him, or anyone." 

Axl appears to be a little disappointed at that. I think I see the corners of his lips form a tiny frown. "Fine, fine. I just want you to be done with dealing with him, that's all." 

"God." I moan, falling back onto the mattress. "Me too." 

I sigh, staring up at the ceiling. It seems like we're both at a loss of what I should do now. 

"There is one thing we could try. It's less physical than me giving him a black eye," He chuckles quietly. 

I look at him. "What is it?" I can't even try to hide how intrigued I already am. 

"It doesn't involve Dylan. Only you and me."


	10. Chapter 10

Axl's idea was a hickey.

"It's still faint," His voice isn't anything above a murmur as his thumb swipes over my skin. "But it'll be more noticeable tomorrow."

I wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to make out again. Just like last time, my enjoyment outweighed my shame.

It's easy not to think about how many rules both Axl and I have/are breaking and how odd our friendship has become when we kissed on my bed for what had to of been a good half hour.

_Ridiculously easy._

Even now, it's simple to let it blank from my mind.

"I've never really seen a hickey before," I whisper, reminded of how juvenile I am.

Less than a few seconds later, I find my hand in Axl's as he brings me to stand in front of the mirror in my room.

To answer my own question, it isn't big. Although the only lighting in here comes from two lamps at opposite ends of the room, the purplish-red bruise can't be any larger than a quarter.

_It looks kind of pretty_. . .

But it's not the hickey that makes my breath catch in my throat.

It's the sight of Axl and I.

His hands cradle my hips, my own moving my messy hair out of the way to get a better look at my neck. The cutoff shorts I'm wearing stop at the middle of my thighs, the exposed skin of my legs littered with goosebumps as I hear the air conditioning turn on. I don't object when Axl presses his body closer to mine, the warmth radiating off of him nice.

My face is nearly as flushed as my lips that are still swollen from kissing. So are Axl's. I tried to completely wipe off my lipgloss before we started, but I can see small flecs of glitter on his lips as the light catches them.

I wasn't as nervous this time around. Being totally and completely alone really took away a lot of the pressure that was there last time.

The only issue we encountered today was my bed.

It's only a twin. Having Axl, who's a grown man and nearly six feet tall be on it at the same time as me is a challenge. We both nearly fell off a couple times.

"Does it hurt?" Axl says right near my ear, his eyes on mine.

"No." I stop and focus on it for a moment, thinking. "It just feels like you're still kissing me."

When Axl rests his huge hand on my throat, my breath falters even though he isn't squeezing me. His palm simply rests against my skin as his thumb rubs over the hickey, causing it to tingle even more than it already was. 

_Oh_ _my god_ _that_ _feels good._

When a whimper slips from my throat, I'm surprised to hear the noise, and Axl's laugh.

"Chasity Novelo likes hickies and kissing. Who fuckin' knew."

I stare daggers at Axl once I spin around to actually face him. My hands clamp onto the sides of his half undone button up, my knuckles grazing against his abs. "Don't make fun of me in my own house."

He laughs even more as he pries my fingers from his shirt. "Oh, c'mon, you know you do! It's so obvious, Chas. You practically died when I french kissed you too."

The tips of my ears burn at his words. "Anyone could've done it and I would've 'died.'" I make air quotes with my fingers. "Don't flatter yourself, William."

It didn't even happen in my dream, and I suppose that's because I had no idea how it felt until it happened.

Immediately after Axl's tongue had traced over my own, he said he was sorry. His voice was raspy and deep, lips still close to mine. Little did he know, I was already caught up in it. _All_ _of_ _it._

He's still smiling at me with amusement when he speaks. "When are your parents gonna be home."

"Soon, probably." I speak quietly, even if I don't need to. It's like a newly developed habit.

Having Axl in my room is a secret. Maybe if I whisper, it'll help make sure no one knows. Not Michelle, not my parents. Not the band. Not any part of the universe outside of this room.

That same smile, glitter and all, still hasn't left Axl's lips. It's wider now, even as his nose brushes against mine. "I better go doll."

"Okay."

"Are you gonna be okay? You still seem a little faint." Axl giggles at his own words, knowing they're getting to me.

I roll my eyes. "I'll be fine."

"Just making sure." His fingers come up to my neck again, tracing the mark he's left on me, his eyes staring as he does it. My body is still as Axl leaves a kiss behind, his lips pressed against my neck for what feels like a split second.

"For good luck," He says.

When he leaves my room, he goes through the door instead of the window. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two..... THEY'RE SO CLUELESS but i love it! Thank you in advance for commenting ❤❤


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As usual, the boys have tricks up their sleeves.

When I first see the flyers that have been plastered on nearly every surface outside of school, I think it's for a party.

It's only after I have the bright blue paper in my hands that I realize I'm so, so wrong. 

_**WANT TO BE IN A MUSIC VIDEO?** _

_**THE ROCK N' ROLL BAND GUNS N' ROSES ARE FILMING THE** _ _**VIDEO** _ _**FOR** _ _**THEIR SOON TO BE HIT "WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE" THIS SATURDAY!** _

_**S** _ _**HOW UP AT TWO O'CLOCK AND GET IN FOR FREE! MAX OCCUPANCY OF 300!** _ ****

I can't help but scowl at the words on the paper.

_Of course they're_ _using_ _us,_ _Michelle_ _and I, as their excuse to promote their band at_ our _high school. Of course!_

"Those bastards," Michelle hisses, letting the flyer in her hands fall to the pavement. "A heads up would've been nice." 

All around us, people are pocketing the flyers and talking excitedly about it, as if this is the best thing to ever happen. 

_"My brother_ _saw_ _them live! He_ _said_ _that_ _the lead_ _singer_ _beat up a guy_ _who_ _tried to take_ _his_ _drink!"_

_"_ - _I've_ _heard_ _about_ _these_ _guys_ _,_ _they're_ _gonna be big."_

_"_ _-_ _Can't_ _miss it!_ _I'll_ _tell my mom_ _I'm_ _at_ _your_ _house!"_

"Isn't this your brother's band?" 

A moment passes before Michelle and I realize that a sophomore is talking to her. 

"Yeah," She says bitterly. 

The boy runs off after that, seemingly scared away by Michelle's intimidating demeanor. 

I can't say I blame him. 

From where we stand, still perched on the last few steps that lead up to the double doors, we have a good view of half the school's reactions to the Guns N' Roses extra call. 

But beyond school property, I can see a car that I know doesn't belong to any student here. 

It's too new and expensive and fast. Axl's black Camaro. 

My hand finds Michelle's, trying to get her to move at the same pace as me as we march across the grounds to the curb, where cars are driving by and kids are trying to cross. 

Through the windshield, I see that the entire band is squeezed into the car. 

Duff rolls down the window. "Hey losers!" 

"This is gonna cost you!" Michelle holds up one of the crumpled flyers in her hand. "Now all our friends are gonna want to hang out with _you_ instead of us this Saturday." 

"That was the plan!" Duff smiles. 

As Michelle fires back at him, I realize that Axl's been staring at me from the driver's seat this entire time. 

I'm mad at him, too. I don't do anything but meet his eyes, and hope that how annoyed I feel is apparent. 

"You can't even show up with room to take us home?" I interject Michelle and her brother's bickering, my question open to anyone who wants to respond. 

"It was a team effort!" Steve's window is rolled down now too. "We all had to contribute to our little PR stunt. We only got here ten minutes ago! Finished up just as the bell rang." 

They all look so proud of themselves. Smug smiles on their faces and all. As if their idea of easily finding people to be in their music video was genius, that they'll just embarrass Michelle and I in the process, no big deal. 

Even though only a handful of people are aware that we know Guns N' Roses (including a random sophomore), word can travel fast. Especially when the band will surely find some other way to humiliate us at the actual gig. 

  
"C'mon Chas. Let's go." Michelle is the one pulling me along now, leaving the guys in our wake.

It takes about five minutes of walking our usual route home for us realize that the Camaro is slowly treading along just a little ways behind us. Axl revvs the engine, and makes Michelle scream.

"You're so mean," I yell behind me, my hands gripping Michelle's forearms so she doesn't run and punch any of them through the open windows.

Their loud, booming laughter is deep and can be heard over the roar of Axl's car.

"Just go!" Michelle waves. "First, you practically vandalize our school and now you have to watch us walk home for your own amusement? You're all a bunch of assholes!"

" _Ooo"'s_ and more laughter result from that.

Images of Michelle and I kicking in Axl's hood fill my head, and I can't help but wickedly smile.

_All that record_ _label_ _money wasted. . ._

But of course I would never. Michelle might consider it, but the wrath of Axl or our parents is not something we'd like to face.

Still, it's a nice thought that mentally relieves my frustration. This is like someone buying all your favorite food and then telling you that you can't have any of it.

Walking home is the bane of my existence. Besides Dylan Reynolds.

As much as I know that none of them are trying to hurt us, that they're only teasing, it still bothers me. Michelle, too.

"Shouldn't you two be driving by now anyways?" Slash's voice is loud and clear as he sticks his head out the window.

"Are you kidding? They wouldn't be able to drive for shit!" Duff crackles. "They'd crash a car."

Michelle and I just look at each other, the Camaro now right next to us.

"Oh, c'mon. Don't be mad!" Axl makes a sad face as he looks at us, taking his eyes completely off the road. "What if I told you that I'd take you to get somethin' to eat?"

We both consider that, our eyes meeting again. Our answer is decided within a few seconds.

"Fine," we say, not even hesitating.

"Good!" Axl smiles, still not looking at the street. It begins to worry me a little. "See ya."

With that, they drive off, tires squealing, leaving Michelle and I to walk home on our lonesome. Finally. _Peace_ _and quiet._


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Semi steamy??? Actually, Chas is just too innocent.

I think I'm still dreaming as the members of Guns N' Roses pile into my room, and assemble themselves around my bed, looking at me.

"Rise and shine, Chassy!"

"Huh?" My voice comes out muddled with sleep, my brain not processing what's going on.

"The video for Jungle is today! You better get up girly, we're already runnin' late."

That makes me sit up faster than ever.

"What?"

It finally hits.

_Oh my fucking god._

"What are you doing here? Why are you in my room? What time is it?" The clock reads nine-sixteen, but that's the only answer I've got for myself.

Past the guys and a very grumpy looking Michelle who lays on the floor, I see my mother walk by with laundry in her hands.

"Sorry honey, they said it was important!"

Even if I wanted to, I couldn't be mad at her for this.

All of the sudden, every single one of them starts to rush me.

"There's gonna be traffic, c'mon."

"We told you we gotta leave at nine-thirty!"

"Get up! Put clothes on!"

"Michelle quit sleeping! Move, Chasity!"

"-Can't be waiting around here all day!"

"OKAY!" I kick off the covers before pushing past them, and can't help but notice that I'm not the only one who looks like shit right now.

They look hungover, their clothes all disheveled. I'd bet money that they slept in them last night. Even Axl looks tired.

"What the hell did you guys do last night? Too many beers?" I tease, laughing.

I don't wait for a response to my comment. I just move on down the hall, to the bathroom. I lock the door for good measure.

My makeup consists of mascara, concealer on my undereyes, and lipgloss. I brush my teeth, put on deodorant, and add product to my hair. I'm in and out in under ten minutes, and I have to say, I'm proud of myself. I don't even get ready this quickly when I'm running late for school.

But that's because school is very, very different from a rock concert.

They still hassle me as I stand at my open closet, shifting from foot to foot as I try to decide on my outfit.

_A skirt?_ _That_ _black_ _one_ _could_ _work with the pink shirt. . . No. Too groupie-ish. Jeans? Boring. Man, I really need to go to the mall. I haven't been_ _in_ _so long-_

"A t-shirt and jeans is fine. We're on a tight schedule."

I snort as I turn around to look at Michael, who sits on my bed. "Says the guy who literally never shows up anywhere on time. Ever." I can't help but look at the rest of them, too.

I realize Michelle is fast asleep on the hardwood floor, how, I don't know. But she is.

Begrudgingly, I make a show of selecting a pair of jeans and a Guns N' Roses t-shirt with a long, drawn-out sigh.

The guys used to know someone who made a hundred of them, and the one I have used to belong to Duff. Until I stole it.

"Hey, is that mine-"

"I can't answer that! There's not enough time! We're running _so_ late, remember?"

Izzy laughs at that, and I feel proud of myself.

Changing takes hardly any time at all, and once I get back to my room, so does tying the laces to my beat up, black Converse.

I grab a jacket, unsure of how long they're going to have Michelle and I out for. The nights are still cold despite it being the beginning of April now.

"Okay. Let's go!"

Once we're all deadset on the front door downstairs, my mother speaks.

"Stay and have some breakfast! There's plenty." She grins over her mug of coffee from the kitchen table.

Everyone is frozen, but I wish I could run into the kitchen and put ten pancakes on a plate because I'm so hungry.

All at once, they take my mom up on her offer, saying Thank You's. Steven even tells her that she's one of the sweetest ladies he's ever met.

The giant stack of pancakes next to the stove is gone once we all pass through the kitchen, the bacon also disappearing, along with the entire coffee pot and toast.

It's like some weird fever dream as they all sit at the mahogany kitchen table, as if they've done so their entire lives, and engage in a friendly conversation amongst themselves and my mother.

Michelle and I simply observe, too busy stuffing our faces to include ourselves.

I _really_ can't believe any of it when I don't hear a single swear word or profanity for a good ten minutes. That's the amount of time it takes for us all to eat everything, not even a crumb left behind on our plates.

My mom knows how to cook.

She takes it upon herself to gather our plates.

"Thank you, Mrs. Novelo." Steven gives his trademark smile. His eyes linger, not moving away from my mother's. And so does his hand as it goes to meet hers halfway with his plate.

"Please, call me Silvia."

"That's so pretty! I didn't know your name is Silvia."

Just like me, my mother blushes badly all the time too. But right now, her face is the brightest I've ever seen it as she smiles some more.

"I'm flattered, thank you Steven." She's clearly impressed, eyes leaving his only to flicker back, smiling still.

When I see him wink just before my mother practically skips out of the room, Michelle and I both look at each other before looking at Duff.

Izzy is trying to hide his laughter behind his glass of orange juice.

Axl's expression tells me he's horrified.

_Steven Adler,_ _the_ _drummer of my brother's band, really just_ _flirted_ _with_ _my mother._

I feel sick.

Steven's face contorts with pain as a quick _bang!_ can be heard beneath the table.

"Ow!" Steven mutters a string of curse words, glaring at Axl. "The fuck did you do that for?"

"C'mon, man. That's her mom," Axl hisses. "You can't do that."

"Do what?" Steven grins devilishly, and this time it's Duff who gives him a disgusted face.

Beside me, Michelle is practically brushing away tears as her shoulders shake with giggles. "He's gonna make a move on our mom next."

I quickly get to my feet, deciding that we can't stay here any longer. I don't want to find out what else could possibly happen.

"Mom, we gotta go!" I say, collecting the jean jacket I draped over my chair.

Just as we're about to walk out the door, she comes back.

"Have fun!"

"We will! I love you," I tell her.

Michelle and I pass through the threshold of the front door, Izzy and Duff right behind us.

"Bye Silvia!" Steven waves, and Michelle makes a gagging noise just as my mother tells him goodbye.

As we walk down the path to the sidewalk, I hear Axl saying something about having me home before nine and making sure that I'm safe.

I'll admit it, I try to eavesdrop a little.

I think it's interesting that Axl and I can both be in the same room as my mother, and act as if he wasn't just in my bedroom giving me a hickey last week.

Now that I think about it--exactly what we've done--a mixture of shame and guilt start to form in my chest.

But as Axl approaches, his smile makes me forget.

_If only she knew. . . She_ _would_ _never let me go near_ _him_ _ever again._

Especially not now, when Duff begins to say that there's not enough room in the car for all of us.

It's awkward for a second, no one saying anything to that. There's smaller pieces of equipment scattered around inside the van, and only enough seating for the five of them.

"You guys invite us, but don't even make sure we can all get there? Typical," Michelle rolls her eyes.

"You _can_ get there," Duff says. "You just have to sit in the back."

"You literally just said there's no room."

Duff walks over to the back of the van, and opens the door before gesturing to what is considered the trunk. "You're small. You'll fit."

Michelle immediately protests, but Duff is stronger than her, and he picks her up and practically tosses her in the trunk before slamming the door shut.

"One down, one more to go."

I can already hear Michelle calling Duff obscenities.

I must be missing something, because all the guys pile into the van, leaving me standing in the street still.

Axl's outstretched hand immediately fills me in on what I was oblivious to.

"C'mere."

I'm going to have to sit on Axl's lap for the next hour of my life, in a car full of our friends.

_Oh my god. . ._

I remind myself that it's nothing as I step up into the van. That this is only happening because we have no other option as I feel Axl's hands taking my hips and moving me how he wants, down into his lap.

My heart feels like it could explode, and oddly enough, that guilt from just minutes ago comes right back up.

The secret that only Axl and I share makes me embarrassed. What we're doing is not something that we should be. It doesn't hold an innocent connotation, because every time I've been in contact with Axl before this moment hasn't exactly been pure. 

I try to block out my own subconscious as the van finally takes off, leaving my street behind.

_This is only_ _happening_ _because_ _there's_ _no_ _where_ _else for me to go. Axl_ _and_ _I kissed to get Dylan off my case_ _._ _I'm_ _not a slut for trying to get a guy to leave me alone._

Out of nowhere, Duff is slamming on the breaks, trying to avoid running a quick red light. I nearly go flying.

But I'm saved before I can even comprehend what just happened. Axl's arms are wrapped around my torso, keeping my body right against his own.

"Sorry!"

"Slow down! Chassy could get hurt." Axl scolds, his arms not giving up on their hold, almost like he's afraid it'll happen again.

Without realizing what I'm doing, my own hands come up to cover his. I feel his smooth skin and the fine hairs along his arms underneath my palms, my fingers pressing into his skin. 

"Are you okay?" His voice is so much gentler when he speaks this time.

"Yeah," I whisper back, knowing he's the only one who can hear me. The stero is loud, and Michelle still complains every so often.

_I'm_ _more_ _than okay. I like this too much, Axl._

It reminds me of my dream, even though it's nothing like it. Maybe it's just that he's so close. There was something so erotic about being in Michelle's kitchen in the middle of the night. There's also something erotic about sitting in his lap surrounded by other people. People that would be disgusted if they knew our recent history.

If they knew how much I liked this right now. Axl included.

He doesn't object in any way when I lean back into him, and I silently thank him for it.


	13. Chapter 13

I feel underdressed and very out of place.

If I had known all the girlfriends would be here, I would've worn the skirt and crop top I was eyeing this morning.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look like a model?" Sally, Slash's girlfriend looks at me intently after taking a sip of the coke can in her hand, the tip of the pink straw covered in her red lipstick. It compliments the golden color of her blonde hair.

_She_ _looks_ _like a model._ _They_ _all do._

There's Mandy, Angela, Adriana, and of course Sally.

Mandy Brixx, Duff's girlfriend is the only other blonde besides Sally. Angela and Adriana, Izzy and Steve's girls, are brunettes.

All of their makeup looks perfect, smoky eyes and eyeliner and bright lipstick. Their outfits are cool and short-very short. Their legs look like they go on for days.

None of them have acne, or frizzy hair, or have on jeans they've been wearing since the ninth grade.

"I agree!" Adriana chimes in, practically shaking me out of my own thoughts. "You and Michelle are so pretty."

"Thank you," Michelle and I both tell her, also looking at sally.

I'm still not used to people complimenting me like they all have been since we met half an hour ago. As soon as I got off Axl's lap in the car, there they were, waiting for the band.

"Duff tells me you both don't have boyfriends. Is that the truth, or is there something he doesn't know?" Mandy laughs, raising one eyebrow at us.

_What a complicated question._

Michelle and I both just look at one another.

Mandy takes that as an answer within itself.

"I bet he's protective."

"Totally! He's ridiculous," Michelle shakes her head. "I mean, you heard him earlier! Telling us we couldn't leave the venue, that we have to stay away from all the men here. He's annoying."

It felt like we went from seventeen to seven years old when Duff pulled Michelle and I both aside as soon as we walked into the building. He totally ruined our excitement once he started lecturing us about not taking any alcohol anyone might offer us and to stay close to the band. That did more harm than good.

Luckily, Mandy was right there, ready to give him a dirty look and whisk Michelle and I away with her to one of the vacant dressing rooms.We've been in here ever since, eating chips and hearing how each of the girls met their respective band members.

"I think it's sweet! He's looking out for you two. It reminds me that our guys aren't as big of jerks as so many people make them out to be." Angela frowns, a strand of her hair curled between her fingers.

Michelle and I aren't able to ask for more details on that because the wooden door is creaking open, and Axl is sticking his head into the room.

"Can I steal Chas? I'll give her back later."

I hop right up, and hurry towards the door. 

"Bye!" I call out over my shoulder, just before the door shuts behind me.

When Axl takes my hand, it takes all my self control to not get weird.

"Can't have you gettin' lost. God knows you could pull that off even if we're just going down the hall." Axl tugs me along, looking back at me once with a laugh.

"Like your sense of direction is any better." I've heard countless stories of Axl getting lost and having to call one of his band mates from a pay phone.

As we round another corner, Axl's hand leaves mine immediately. I see why.

It's the band's dressing room.

The door has been propped wide open, and people keep going in and out. I can hear Steven's laughter all the way out here, over sounds of a radio.

And I'll admit it, I don't even remember where the other room is now. But I'm not going to tell Axl that.

I trail behind him as we enter the room, Duff the only one who notices my presence right away.

"Hey! Where's my girlfriend?"

"She's somewhere," I tell him, genuinely unable to give a specific answer. "Michelle is with her and so are the other girls."

Izzy and Slash and Steve look up from their beers long enough to say hi, and then Axl grabs onto my hand again, and I almost hyperventilate. It's only to get me to keep moving though, over to the empty chair at the end of the long strip of mirrored wall.

"They bein' nice to you?" Duff calls out. I can hear the protectiveness in his voice.

"Yes, Duff."

"Are they bein' nice to Michelle?"

"Yes," I call out, rolling my eyes. Axl snickers as he sits down, and I immediately reach for the teasing comb.

He called me before he went to the store yesterday, and I had to repeat five times to him what I would need to do his hair for today.

A comb and hairspray. That's it. He wouldn't take my word for it.

"Just checking!"

"I'm not a child, and neither is Michelle. I'm about to be eighteen! I can take care of myself." I have to shout over an Anthrax song.

Michelle is four months younger than me, but that's hardly anything in reality.

"Would you let her be, Duff? She's trying to work." Izzy comes by, and he makes a low whistle as he looks at Axl's hair. I've already teased two sections at the top. "Good luck brushing that out later," He whispers, patting Axl on the shoulder.

"Shut up, Iz! She's my responsibility!"

Now I'm really getting annoyed with him.

Duff looks at me next. "You've never been to a concert before, let alone backstage! You wouldn't believe all the things I've heard!"

Now Axl is really laughing, and I have to give him a warning look as his shoulders shake. Any more giggling from him and I'll accidently pull his hair out.

"Whatever you say, Duff."

All the guys are rowdy and have already consumed a lot of alcohol, so that means I don't even try to have a conversation with Axl as I do his hair.

The more I backcomb, the sadder I get.

His hair really is goregous. It's strawberry blonde, almost a true red and so long and smooth and he doesn't have any split ends. His hair is better than mine.

And here I am, messing it up on purpose.

I have to remind myself that this is what he wants. We already discussed it.

_He's trusting me to bring_ _his_ _vision to life. Axl_ _hardly_ _trusts anyone with anything._

Dare I say it, but I am flattered that I was chosen for the job.

Especially over all the other girls he probably knows.

_Me. He picked_ me.

I allow myself five seconds to smile like an idiot before resuming my composure.

People just keep coming in and out of the room, talking to the guys and pouring drinks. Mostly crew members and people that I guess are from other bands.

Each time, it's someone new, Duff introduces me. It gets very annoying very quickly, and makes doing Axl's hair an even longer process because I keep having to stop.

So when everyone leaves-all the guys and crew and other bands-I let out a sigh of relief, only to realize that I'm now alone with Axl for the first time today.

It's practically silent, except for the radio. Warrant plays now.

"Are you nervous?"

"No."

"I'm nervous for you then." I glance at his face in the mirror, his expression not giving anything away.

He chuckles at that, the sound deep in his chest. "You're nervous for me? Lighten up Chassy. It's gonna be fun. Especially when I embarrass you."

I can feel my face drop at that, becoming all serious. "Axl-"

"Calm down, I'm not actually gonna embarrass you in front of everyone you know. Relax, honey."

"How am I supposed to be sure of that?" My voice gets defensive. "You pull crazy shit all the time."

"Do I, now?" Axl's tone is a warning. It's his way of telling me to shut up.

I don't.

"Yes. Like how you made me sit in your lap, in front of all our friends. God, Axl. What the hell was that?"

I don't even know how we got here, but I'm not going to back away now.

" _That_ " He says, "Was me making sure you got here."

I stare daggers at him, not saying a word.

_He_ _knows_ _I_ _liked_ _it_ _. I can tell. That_ _smile_ _on his face is all the_ _proof_ _I need to_ _know_ _that_ _he_ _knows_ _that_ _I was over the_ _fucking_ _moon_ _about_ _it._ _That_ _I_ _still am, and that even right_ _now_ _I_ _can't_ _stop thinking about it._

I put distance between Axl and myself mentally, both of us not saying anything as I finish his hair.

To my own surprise, my voice is soft and sweet when I speak again. "I'm done."

My hands are sticky with hairspray but I guess Axl doesn't care, because he gets up and towers over me for a second before pulling me into a hug. I feel his muscles through his t-shirt and smell the same cologne on him that I did in the car and of course all the hairspray.

"Thank you. I love it."

"I know," I say confidently.

He lets me go, and I feel that same sadness about his hair in me, except now it's about the absence of his touch.

I still want to kiss him to make him stop talking, and to stop smiling at me.

For a moment, I think I actually will because he doesn't move away from me, still only inches away.

"When do you go on?"

"Soon," He murmurs.

"Five minutes, Axl."

That third voice makes the two of us jump apart, and I thank God for it belonging to a random member of the crew, and not Michelle or Michael.

"C'mon." Axl grabs my hand just like he did earlier.

Then we're running out of the room, and I can already hear the roar of the crowd.

_"Guns N' Roses! Guns N' Roses! Guns N' Roses!"_


	14. Chapter 14

Axl looked like sex.

There was sweat glistening on his biceps and his cheekbones and his hair was still perfectly messy.

If I said my eyes weren't moving back and forth with every thrust of his hips out on that stage, I'd be lying.

And his _voice_.

Jesus Christ.

He sounded like an animal during Welcome To The Jungle, raw and primal and angry. By the time they were performing It's So Easy, it was smooth and bold and intimidating. Sexy.

Sitting here in the green room now, the concert over, I realize that there is no fucking way William Axl Rose doesn't have a girlfriend.

_No one that's_ that _charismatic_ _and_ _mesmerizing_ _is single._

I decide that there has to be a girl somewhere, who's sweet and funny and smart that's Axl's girl. She looks just like all the other girlfriends, I already know it. She's perfect in mind and body and soul. I bet she and him hit it off immediately. She's probably experienced, older. Maybe even older than him. I bet they're happy.

Kissing me surely can't be cheating, not when I'm as big of a loser as I am.

I try to not think about it anymore, especially here, surrounded by the band and their friends. Their girlfriends.

Michelle sits next to me, actually participating in the celebration.

I should be happy for the band. I should be remembering that they just wrapped on their very first music video, one of many, hopefully. That this could land on MTV, be their big break.

And yet, all I can do is complain.

My eyes wander over to where Sally is perched in Saul's lap, her arms wrapped around his torso and her head resting on his shoulder, slightly consumed by his hair.

You can just tell that they love each other.

I see the same thing in Duff and Mandy, when he brushes his hand over the small of her back or gets her another cigarette.

All Adriana and Steve have done so far is make out.

Izzy and Angela don't even need to speak to one another to coexist as perfectly as they do, their touches and expressions saying more than enough.

All of it makes me want that so badly. Not with any of them, and not to be madly in love, even. Just to be cared about.

_There's no way that Axl could even consider me outside the idea of being just a body when we're alone_ _together_ _._

That should bother me, but it works out in the end. I get to say that I've been kissed (it only took me seventeen years), and Dylan leaves me alone. For Axl, I'm a girl, one who's not exactly ugly.

_Okay. Now it hurts._

Right as I'm trying to look away from the lovebirds in the room, I immediately come across another sight that I really, really shouldn't be seeing either.

I can't help it when my knuckles go white, wrapped around the hard metal of the folding chair I sit in. My heart beats faster in my chest as my eyes flicker to the corner of the room where Axl is peeling off the white t-shirt he wore onstage.

_I wish this was just for me. I wish that I_ _could_ _go_ _over and kiss_ _him_ _and sit in his lap and_ _touch_ _him_ _. Run my fingers over_ _his_ _chest, feel his biceps_ _beneath_ _my palms, the heat of_ _his_ _body, his_ _breath_ _against_ _my_ _cheek. . ._

I feel pathetic, wanting these things, but I don't care. If I could beg him for it, I probably would.

_Stop._ _Stop_ this, _Chas._

I'm reminded of my epiphany. I distract myself by going to the ice chest full sodas on the opposite side of the room, facing away from Axl.

When I turn around, he's sitting again. Legs spread, a hand towel slung over one broad shoulder. Abs out.

I feel warm, my ears prickling with heat. My fingers slip beneath the metal tab on the soda can, pulling it up with a loud _pop!_ My heart drums in my ears as I go back to my spot beside Michelle, who's now starting to argue with her brother. I don't hear what they're talking about. I don't even care.

All I think about is Axl.

_I_ _wanna_ _do it. I wanna_ _go_ _over_ _to_ _him so badly. I_ _don't_ _even_ _care if anyone sees. I_ _don't_ _care anymore. I need to_ _kiss_ _him. I need to._

I lift my head up, hoping to get another glance of him to imprint into my mind. Except my view is blocked by something so, so much better.

The V of his hips is _right_ in front of my face. Through my lashes, I meet his eyes, his shadow towering over my body.

"How'd I do?"

"You were so good," I tumble over my words a little, taking a second to formulate a response that isn't complete gibberish. _Holy fuck._ "I've never seen you sing so well before."

"Thanks Chassy! You know, you're really red. Was it hot in the crowd?" Axl inquires, looking down at me intently. I can see the faintest smile on his face, one that looks like he could start laughing any moment now. 

I nod my head vigorously. "Uh-huh. Really hot."

"Let's go outside."

"Right now?" I speak to his abdomen, hardly even realizing it.

"Yeah. C'mon doll."

Everyone's too busy having a good time to ask where we're going, or to realize Axl's pulling me with him out of the room, their laughter fading behind us.

And just like that we're walking out the back door of the venue, the sun setting up in the sky.

With every step, we get closer to the opposite side of the van. I realize that the whole parking lot is empty, everyone that was out here earlier now inside the venue.

I hear the sound of my body make contact with the side of the van before I actually feel it against my back, Axl's lips pressing against mine at the same instant.

I don't even know what to do at first. Every time I've kissed him has been in private and we've both been fully clothed.

Now we're outside, out in the open, Axl's half naked, and I still feel heartbroken from my own thoughts.

"Axl-Wait." My voice comes out in a whisper as my chest heaves. If I thought my heart was beating fast earlier, it's really, really fast now.

"What's wrong?" His head ducks down, and when he kisses my neck I forget everything I wanted to say.

"I just-Oh my god. . ."

Axl laughs against me, pressing his lips against the same spot.

My knees threaten to give out, but I try my hardest to remember what I was saying.

"Don't you-don't you have a girlfriend?" That same sadness courses through my entire being at the mere thought of the answer I'm sure he's going to give me.

He pulls back, laughing at me like that's the funniest thing he's ever heard.

"A girlfriend?" He looks confused, his brow furrowed. "Did one of the girls tell you that I have a girlfriend?"

"No, I was just wondering. . ." My voice trails off, and I feel increasingly more stupid as the empty silence ticks by.

"Chas."

Axl still laughs a little, and I feel stupid for even thinking what I did. I feel embarrassed.

His face gets close to mine, and I swear that I forget to breathe.

"If I had a girlfriend I would've told you. I would've never of kissed you. I know I'm an asshole, but I'm not a cheater.

"You're the only girl I've kissed in a long time."

I kiss Axl now, not caring about anything else. I revel in the feeling of him beneath my hands and how he feels against me, all muscles and tanned skin. But then another question pops into my head. _So annoying. . ._

"How come you don't have a girlfriend?" I manage to slip out between kisses, my hands tangled in his hair now, adding to the messiness that is the masterpiece I helped create earlier.

"Because," He pecks my lips lightly, lingering for a second. "I don't have any time. I'm too busy with the band," Another kiss. "And doing this with you." _Kiss._

I don't even have words to respond to that as I blush hard, and Axl doesn't give me any time to contemplate an answer. He goes right back to kissing me, a groan leaving him as my hold on his hair tightens.

I realize that we probably shouldn't be out here still. One of the guys or even worse, Michelle, could come looking for us. I don't even want to think about what would happen.

The streetlight a few yards away flickers on.

"We-we shouldn't be out here."

"It's fine. They're all too drunk to care," Axl murmurs. I can feel his voice on my lips, the vibrations deep.

_He's_ _probably_ _right,_ I tell myself.

So then we just keep making out. Neither of us have any cares, nothing else to say. And just as Axl's hands begin to press mine flat against the van above my head, I hear the loud creak of the heavy metal doors open.

"Shit."

Our reflexes kick in, and Axl jumps as far from me as possible. I peel myself away from the van while the band's laughter gets louder and louder, Michelle and all the girlfriend's voices audible above all the noise.

Everything is one big blur as we fall into line with everyone, none of them even noticing our newfound presence. Axl was right. They really are too drunk to realize that we were gone. Even Michelle seems a little tipsy.

The guys spend ten minutes making sure Duff is able to handle driving us home, and then it's a somber goodbye between them and their girlfriends.

When it's Michelle and I's turn, we're showered with compliments and promises of friendship, all of it overwhelming but still so sweet. I decide that I approve of each of them, Sally perfect for Slash, Adriana perfect for Steven, Angela perfect for Izzy, and Mandy perfect for Duff.

Everyone piles into the van, bickering about who gets to sit where. Michelle has to be squished in the back, complaining and whining the whole time. I'm the last one in just before we drive off, headed back to real life in Pasadena.

Little bits still linger, though. Rock music plays from the radio, Duff drumming against the steering wheel. The front windows are down, and Slash lights a cigarette from where he rides shotgun, some of the smoke still making it's way into the backseat where I sit in Axl's lap. We drive fast, and I'm not afraid like how I was earlier.

When I feel Axl's hands reaching for mine within my own lap, I look down, watching as the streetlights cast striped shadows through the windows of the van.

Our fingers intertwine, Axl's thumbs running against the tops of my hands. Mine are so small compared to his. My whole body is, really. I feel his presence all around, taking solace in it.

He doesn't let go, not until the van stops in front of my house.

And just like that, I feel as if I'm on top of the world.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chas and Michelle have some girl talk.

"One of my favorite things to do is flip through the lingerie section of catalogs and pick which sets I would want to lose my virginity in."

My fingers stop, mid-page flip. "That's the most you thing I've ever heard you say."

"I know!" Michelle rolls onto her back, taking the huge Sears catalog with her. Then she looks away for a moment, making eye contact with me. "I think it might happen soon."

"Losing your virginity?"

"With Billy."

That makes me laugh out loud. Really, really hard.

"Hey! It's not funny, Chas. This is very serious!"

"I never said it wasn't!" _Oh my god. This is gold._

"So stop it! I really like him. I want to do _it_ with him. You can support me or not; either way it's happening." Michelle shugs her shoulders at me, all confident.

"Billy smokes cigarettes behind the gym at six in the morning. All his tattoos were done in a basement somewhere, and every time we see him leaving P.E. he's got hair dye stains on his face from it bleeding. Michelle, Billy is not going to give you the perfect sex encounter we both know you want."

He's what we call a burnout. He likes the sex pistols and drinks vodka out of a water bottle and I'm pretty sure he's failing all his classes. I try to forget about Michelle's occasional rendezvous with him and her crush for him. I've only spoken to him three times, which I'm thankful for. He scares me.

And regardless of it all, Michelle practically loves him.

_If Michael knew, he_ _would_ _have a fucking heart attack._

"You don't even know the full story of when we almost did it! It was so great, Chasity. He let me-"

"Stop! Stop it! I have virgin ears." My hands clamp over the sides of my head tightly.

Michelle glares at me. "Oh, shut up! I know that you're dying to have sex!"

My jaw drops at her accusation. "Am not!"

"It's written all over your face, don't even try to play it off. I see how you zone out all the time. You're thinking about sex. But with who, is what I'm wondering," She says all mysteriously, wagging her eyebrows.

I roll my eyes. If only she knew.

If only she knew that when I zone out, I'm not thinking about sex.

I'm thinking about my feelings for Axl Rose, and how beyond _fucked_ I truly am.

I had a full-on breakdown while prom shopping last weekend. The tears wouldn't stop in the dressing room, I still had on a god awful dress and everything. At first, I thought I was crying because I just didn't want to go to prom and deal with anything that goes with it, like dress shopping.

Then I realized that I didn't want to go to prom because I can't go with Axl.

And when my subconscious whispered those words that made me sob, I _really_ knew I was in too deep.

_**I have a** _ _**crush** _ _**on Axl.** _

A big, huge, _crush_.

My only saving grace is that Guns N' Roses have been on a tour of the West Coast for two weeks, meaning Axl hasn't been around for me to cry over him any more than I already have been.

It's weird, because for a split second in that dressing room, I felt relieved. Like I finally understood where I stand with Axl. Then I happened to remember all the details.

He's Axl. He's twenty-five, and is best friends with my best friend's brother. He's in a rock n' roll band that's about to be as famous as Madonna. He's the hottest, most attractive man I've ever seen, and I can't have him.

"See! There you go again!" Michelle gets my attention by violently pointing right at me. "Jesus Christ, Chas. Now tell me who it is!"

"I am not daydreaming in the same context you do!" I defend myself. "I just have a lot going on."

She sees right through that one. "Bullshit. All you truly have to worry about is your math homework."

I try to deflect her words as best as I can. "What if you do have sex with Billy? You're not on birth control."

"Yes I am."

I can feel my own eyes widen.

Only the cool girls who have cool parents are able to get on contraceptives. I had no idea that Alice was _that_ cool of a mom.

My own would tell me that premarital sex is a sin. Then, the next chance she got she would tell my father and he would lose it.

It's not like I'll be having sex anytime anyway. Definietly not with who I would maybe do it with.

God, every time I think about the situation I've found myself in I just want to cry.

It makes me wish I never kissed Axl or fell for him at all. I wish I still thought of him as egotistical and annoying.

Life would be easier if I didn't want to be around him every single second. If I didn't miss him the way I do right now.

And now Michelle, who's younger than me, is on birth control.

At least one of our love lives isn't a complete shitshow/nonexistent.

"I told her my periods are heavy and irregular, so we went to the doctor last week. I was going to tell you, I just forgot," Michelle says nonchalantly.

"Oh," I nod my head. I don't know what else to say. Having conversations like this makes me remember how far our friendship has come.

We went from playing tag to sitting around with the door shut, talking about safe sex procedures, all within the spam of twelve years.

I'm happy for her, though.

If she wants to have fun with Billy, I can't stop her. It's her life, and it's not like it's her fault that I'll never get to experience anything that truly means something with Axl.

"When do you think you'll see him again?" I ask excitedly, an attempt at shaking myself out of my feelings.

Michelle grins, looking down at the comforter on her bed. "I don't know, maybe next weekend? I'm ready."

I'm quiet for a second. "How do you. . . Know?"

She sighs. "It's just a feeling, I think. I like him a lot, and it's just. . . Sex. Tons of people have done it and tons more will and that's that. Even if it's shitty, it'll be a funny story to look back on."

I agree with a yeah. Before I can say anything else, Michelle speaks again.

"We need to find you a boyfriend. One who's not creepy," She laughs.

I start to as well, until my throat begins to close a little and I feel my eyes prickle. I want nothing more than to pour my heart out to her, to tell her about what's been going on between Axl and I. Keeping it as a secret to myself is taking it's toll.

Michelle and I have told each other everything, for our entire lives. Everything, minus the reason for Dylan leaving me alone a bit.

It's something that will never change. Maybe I'll get over Axl somehow, and in ten years I'll look back on this time and remember who my first kiss was. Axl Rose, in his car on a Spring day. I was wearing my favorite dress and it was afterschool. I'll never be able to truly forget him for this reason, and knowing this hurts so badly. In ten years, he'll probably be married to a girl just like one I think would work so perfectly with him, with a kid and a big house that's paid for from the platinum records and world tours.

I will see him everywhere, in just a few month's time. Once the record drops, and they explode, just like I'm convinced they will. I will see him everywhere forever.

Michelle asks me what's wrong when I start crying, laying on her bed, staring right up at her poster of Christian Slater.

"Nothing," I choke out. "I just-I guess I'm just lonely."

Michelle looks sad for me. "Oh, Chas. It's gonna be alright! You're sweet and funny and smart and soon you're going to find a guy who's so hot and loves you, and you're gonna get married! He's out there, I know he is."

I nod, compelling myself to get it together. This has got to be the tenth time I've cried in the last week.

You would think I've been rejected hardcore, right? That I somehow told him and he flipped out on me or something, the way I'm convinced he would if I ever did tell him about my feelings. But no. I'm just a crybaby, that's all.

_I_ _hate_ _this. I hate my_ _stupid_ _crush and I_ _hate_ _him and I_ _wish_ _I_ _never ever fell for him._

"Let's go get some ice cream, huh? My mom bought neapolitan yesterday."

"Okay," I agree. I follow her lead, taking the tissues she hands me. Hugging her right back. Closing my eyes when I feel her hand on my hair, trying to comfort me. I admit, it's much nicer crying in front of her than in my room all by myself.

"I'll always love you," She jokes.

"I know," I sniffle, wiping at my eyes. "I love you too, McKagan."

Then we hear the phone ringing, all the way down in the kitchen.

We practically trip over each other on our way down the stairs, not capable of moving fast enough with our socks on along the hard wood floors. Alice doesn't even look up from her T.V. show as Michelle and I run to the kitchen, me pushing her along to get to the receiver before the call goes to voicemail.

"Hello?" Michelle heaves, out of breath.

I know who it is by the way the disgust clouds over her features.

_Oh_ _,_ _for_ _the_ _love_ _of_ _God. I just got done crying!_

"No shit it's you," She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, okay. . . I'm surprised you guys even survived it all. . . Hey! It's just the truth. You're all so stupid. . . Okay, well we're not looking forward to it, bye!"

"Ugh, I get it. . . Now hang up, I already told you bye!"

She slams the phone down on the hook before looking up at me.

"They'll be here in three days."


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duff plays big brother, and the girls visit the studio!

The car is silent, despite there being so much to talk about.

Beside me, Michelle's arms are crossed. Duff wouldn't let her sit in the front seat.

Ten minutes ago, we were in eighth period. Now, we're on our way to a recording studio in downtown L.A. The band wasn't supposed to be back until _tomorrow_. I haven't mentally prepared for this.

"What time did you guys get back?" I direct my words to Michael.

Michelle doesn't even move, her gaze focused on the streets outside the window.

"Right as the sun came up! Axl thinks it's metaphorical or spiritual or some shit, like a new beginning," Duff makes a gesture with his hands that makes me laugh before he puts them back on the wheel. "All I know is that I'm fucking exhausted, and when he said that we had to go to the studio today to record all the songs he just wrote, I wanted to fucking quit right then and there. I hate being in the studio. It's too. . . Corporate for me. And there's no windows, and everything is shaped like a box."

Duff is claustrophobic.

"So you're making us go suffer with you?" Michelle finally speaks.

"Yes, I am, dear sister. And don't even try to complain. I won't turn this car around, I'll drive faster!"

"This is kidnapping!"

"No, it's not, Michelle."

She's just mad because right when Duff pulled up, Billy was walking away from her.

Apparently, he told her he would pick her up. _Tonight._

As in, tonight is the night Michelle could of done _it_.

Not anymore.

And as if on cue, Duff asks who the kid with the red and blue hair is.

"A burnout," I answer.

"No one," Michelle says.

That makes him laugh. "I saw him talking to you, Michelle."

My wrist burns as Michelle squeezes me, her way of saying that if I don't back her up she'll kill me. 

"He asked about the math homework."

_As if_ she _would_ _be_ _able_ _to manage sneaking out of_ _the_ _house_ _at midnight. . ._

"Is that true, Chasity?"

Of course he does this. Duff already knows something is up.

When I don't answer, Duff sighs but he doesn't push it. I see Michelle smile a little to herself beside me.

Ratting her out completely feels wrong. I'm not much better. I'm worse.

_Definitely_ worse after what I found sticking halfway out of my locker today, where anyone could've grabbed it before I did.

The picture might be blurry, but it's apparent what the subject matter is.

Axl and I weren't alone that day outside the video shoot. Not at all.

The picture was taken mid-kiss, Axl's hands looking huge on my waist. Our faces aren't very clear, with there being too much hair in the way. But there's more than enough evidence to compensate.

It felt like I had pulled out a Playboy in the middle of passing period when I looked at that polaroid. It was like I couldn't shove it into my pocket quick enough, the seconds ticking by slower and slower the more I started to freak out and attempt to get rid of it.

Blackmail is what Dylan Reynolds is getting into now in his attempts at reeling me in, and it's my secret to carry with me until Axl splits the burden.

_So stupid of us. . ._

"You've gotta stay away from guys like that. He's in a band, isn't he?"

No one answers Duff. We're both too busy worrying about our similar yet different dilemmas.

"Michelle, don't get involved with guys that wear safety pin earrings, and don't even pay any fuckin' attention to guys in bands. Promise me you won't," Duff looks at us in his mirror. "Both of you."

At the same instant, Michelle and I both say one word. "Fine."

"Guys in bands are no fucking good, let alone _burnouts_ in bands. They're all fucked up. Every. Single. One. If you knew what I did about some of these people that play music, you wouldn't be able to stand any of it."

No one says anything else the rest of the way to the studio. I look out the window, and try not to let my feelings consume me entirely.

***

We're able to see all the shouting before we actually hear it. 

Steven marching around the live room behind the glass, his head in his hands. Slash is laying on the floor, his guitar beside him. Izzy is furiously pointing fingers at the both of them, the ash coming from the cigarette between his fingers falling onto the ground just missing Slash, who only appears to grow more upset.

All it takes is one click from the guy sitting before the huge console of buttons for us to figure out just what it is we're looking at. 

"-You can't fuckin' play! You can't! If you could, we would've had this down already! It's really not that hard. You're just an idiot!" Izzy directs his words to Steven, his voice isolated. 

Steve's curls are tangled around his face from his pulling at them. "I'm-I'm an idiot? Slash can't even fucking stand up 'cause he's so drunk! At least I'm kinda sober."

"Yeah!" Slash slurs. "And you still suck!"

It's as if Izzy is breaking the fourth wall in a movie when he turns to the glass, and stares right at us. "I can't fucking do this anymore. I'm done."

He doesn't wait for anyone's reaction before he throws down his guitar and matches into the control room we're standing in. 

Duff can't get a single word in before Izzy is gone, storming out into the hallway. 

All I can do is look at Michelle as she looks at me. Steven and Slash are still bickering, like they hardly care that Izzy just walked out. 

I have no clue where Axl is. We've been here for nearly ten minutes already and there's no sign of him. 

Already, the opinion I'm forming about recording studios is a bad one. Really, really bad. 

Things continue to play out as if Michelle and I aren't here. 

Duff enters the soundproof room, and Michelle and I decide to take a seat on the expensive looking leather couch, moving beer bottles and cigarette butts out of our way. The engineer that's supposed to be mixing the record and facilitating this whole thing is unbothered as he lights his own cigarette. When he turns in his chair to look at us, arm and pack extended, Michelle and I both shake our heads. 

_No_ _adult_ _has ever offered me a cigarette before. . ._

Slash apparently can't get up off the floor, his body hidden from our limited view through the glass now that we're sitting down. Steve only continues to argue, talking shit to Duff now.

"-You-You can't even show up with the rest of us! What kind of bassist are you? At least I was here on time." Steven points with at him with a drum stick.

"Would you calm down? I went to pick up the girls."

"Girls? You mean Adri-Adriana?" 

Michelle giggles beside me at Steve and his inability to talk fluidly, the alcohol he must've had for sure taking over. 

"No, Chas and Michelle."

It's easy to ignore Michelle and her annoying little wheezes when I hear what Steve says next.

"Oh. Well Axl was talking about Chas earlier. He'll be happy to uh, know she's uh, here."

My heart swells, even though it shouldn't. Steven probably doesn't realize what it is he's saying. 

"Where is Axl, Steve?" Duff is trying his hardest to stay calm, it's written all over his face that he's losing his patience. 

I see why he didn't want to come here. It almost makes me feel bad for him. 

"I dunno, I'm not his keeper! Ask somebody else, man. I want another drink. Where-Where's the beer-"

"You stay here, okay? Slash too. I'm gonna go find Axl." Duff looks back at Steven one more time as he opens the door to the control room, practically slamming it shut behind him.

"They've been like this the entire time, Duff." The engineer says, tapping his cigarette over an ash tray. "I can only do so much."

"Where's Alan?"

"Missing too. Haven't seen Axl for a good hour."

Duff runs his hands through his hair, sighing. He stares at the wall for a second, an attempt at regaining his bearings after dealing with his drunken bandmates.

I feel bad. Really bad. And angry at Axl for apparently disappearing when the rest of the guys are drunk. I cannot even imagine how much money Duff is going to loose from all the lost studio time, let alone the rest of them. _Poor, poor Duff. . ._

"C'mon, girls. Let's go find everybody."

Duff still retains his manners as he opens the door to the hallway we came down, holding it open as we step outside.

Things are still quiet here, the padded carpet beneath my shoes still expensive, and the building still seeming too nice for Guns N' Roses to be lost and fighting in it.

People outside the glass door at the end of the corridor catch my attention over Michelle and Duff's agitated voices. People that look a lot like Axl and Izzy.

The metal of the door is cool against my hands as I push the door open, stepping out into a different part of the parking lot. The sun is incredibly bright, and it only bounces off of Axl's hair as he turns around to look at me, Izzy still yelling.

"-I'm done! I cannot do this! And now you're not even listening to me!"

Axl smiles wide at me. "Chas! Hi! It feels like I haven't seen you in so long, c'mere."

My body automatically closes the space between us, Axl nearly lifting me up with his arms as he hugs me.

"Oh, for fuck's sake! I'm not done, Axl. You cannot just have a sweet little reunion right now! We're in the middle of a crisis."

"Yes I can, Iz." Axl turns his head to look at Izzy, his arms around my waist only getting tighter. "I _missed_ her," He says just as he pulls back to look at me. "I missed you," He whispers.

I nearly kiss him right here, only the squeaking of the door makes me freeze, because I know who would see.

"There you are!" Duff's voice is just as angry as Izzy's.

Axl moves his hands up a little higher on my back then, just before he pulls away completely, and I have to hide my blushing and how good my whole being feels from him touching me in the slightest.

I remember that I'm supposed to be annoyed with him. I'm supposed to not want to kiss him right now.

How absurd.

"Hey-" Axl starts.

"Don't 'hey' me! You left Stevie and Slash totally shitfaced in the booth and expected things to go just fine?! Izzy can't control them, you know that! He's trying to record too, not babysit! Now they're probably charging us another thousand for wasting time. And where the fuck is Alan?!" Duff doesn't stop for anything, not even air as he yells at Axl, pointing fingers and all.

My jaw drops when he gets to the money portion of his lecture. Michelle can only stand there and laugh hysterically. Izzy folds his arms in a matter of factly way, only able to agree with Duff.

Axl remains calm, sighing. "Listen, we all need to calm down! Let's order some food for the terror twins, sober them up a bit. They'll be fine."

Izzy just stares at Axl. "That leaves the money and uh, Alan still."

"They'll take it out of my paycheck, just like they do with everything else. It'll be fine. And Alan isn't here, he left hours ago."

"What the fuck are we payin' him for then?-" Duff nearly starts to freak out all over again, until Axl walks over and pats his shoulder.

"Calm down. You don't gotta yell."

Duff nods his head then, eyes glued to the pavement. "Yeah. Sorry."

Axl hugs him then. "It's okay, man. You just go back to Slash and Steve, keep 'em in the live room and put 'em on mute. I'll go get some burgers, I'll be back in half an hour tops."

"Okay."

And just like that, everyone is calm and everything's fine. All because Axl made it so.

When he manages to corral everyone inside, sending them back to the control room, he turns to me.

"Do you wanna go with me?"

"Yeah. I actually needed to talk to you." The weight of my pocket comes back into focus now. The problem so much worse than a few drunk band members and a missing manager.

Axl begins to walk back outside now, bringing me along with him. "I'm all yours. What's up?"

"You're not gonna believe it, Axl. . ."


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft!Axl and Nervous!Chas haha

"Just show it to me, doll."

My hand feels heavy as I pull the folded up picture from my pocket, unclicking my seatbelt with the other. I drop the polaroid into Axl's outstretched palm, hesitant.

His eyes practically go dark, his brow furrowing as his jaw clenches.

"No _fucking_ way."

"That's what I said."

"Oh my god," Axl laughs in disbelief, clutching the photograph in both his hands. "I'll fucking kill him."

"Axl," My eyes scan all the people walking past the Camaro in this McDonald's parking lot, terrified that they might be able to hear Axl's threat. "Please-"

"I will, Chas." Axl closes his large fist around the picture, the sound of it creasing and crumbling audible. He looks at me. "This the last time he disrespects you, you hear me?"

I don't quite realize that he's waiting for me to reply until there's an uncomfortable silence in the car, my heart pounding in fear. And not for me, but for _Dylan_.

"Yes."

"I'm gonna take care of it. So don't you worry, alright?"

"Okay," I nod. I don't challenge him, I won't. Not when he's got that crazy look in his eyes.

I've seen it before. The day I met him and he yelled at that kid for messing with Michelle and I.

My eyes close the second Axl rests a hand on my hair, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of my head. Almost like he could like me too, as absurd as that is.

_He's covering his own back, because he knows what could happen to him if this gets out, Chas. A picture of him kissing you is life ruining. You could ruin his life._

_I already have._

I feel awful as I think it, but I know it's true.

I'm the one who pulls away first, slowly, but still first. Thinking about the possibility of Dylan Reynolds being here right now, taking more pictures of us. Maybe from behind the bushes near the sidewalk, or inside the fast food joint, even. I tell myself to be rational, before I really become paranoid.

Axl gives me a smile, completely unaware of how heartbroken it makes me feel. Still, I smile back.

I try not to let my eyes water any more than they already are as I get out of Axl's car, ready to help him figure out the huge order of food we're about to place.

This must be one of the only McDonald's in this part of Los Angeles, it's so busy. A pop song plays loud over the speakers once we walk inside, and there's kids and adults in nearly every booth, talking loudly. Even some teenagers, with it being afterschool on a Thursday.

I can't help but notice an older couple a few places ahead of us in line eyeing Axl's silver rings and his ripped Sunset Tattoo T-shirt. I'm sure his hair doesn't help either. It's getting longer than normal now.

_I love it. But I'll_ never _tell him that._

This might be L.A., but everyone knows that guys that look like him belong on The Strip. Today, we're a little bit too close to Beverly Hills for him to get by without stares.

I'm trying to figure out just what it is that I want off the menu when I notice that the same husband and wife are now looking at _me._ The woman's brown eyes are practically boring into my soul, and for a moment, she kind of looks like my mother. Big hair, manicured nails, a shiny wedding ring, tan skin.

That only makes this worse.

I bet I look funny beside Axl, especially now when I start to feel uncomfortable under those two sets of judging eyes just feet away.

_Definietly_ not like I belong on The Strip too. My bare face practically screams juvenile, no mascara and powder and bright lipstick to age me by a couple years. Like it's obvious I don't fit in his world.

I shiver at the feeling of Axl's hand snaking around my waist, startling me. He pushes me into his side, my hip coming into contact with his upper thigh.

"Nosy people in here today, huh?" He hums, irritated.

"Stop it," I hiss through my teeth, trying to get out of his hold by moving away. It doesn't work, probably because I don't try hard enough.

_I shouldn't like this. Think about what could happen, Chas._

This is all hitting too close to the vivid daydreams I often have of my mother finding out about what Axl and I have done, or even worse, seeing it for herself. S _he would hate me forever._ _She would kill me, and Axl too._

Axl bends down a little to whisper to me again. "I think it's funny." He lets his hand travel along the small of my back, to my hand closest to his body before taking it into his own. The coolness of his rings contrasts against my skin, only making me grip his hand tighter.

When I look over at those people again as they wait for their order, their eyes are nearly glued to the wall, clearly uncomfortable. I almost laugh out loud.

When it's our turn and that couple is long gone, Axl still doesn't let go of my hand. Our fingers remain interlocked now, my hand gently in his. It makes it hard to focus, my mind spacing as Axl racks off what we want. Even once he's done, and she's reciting the laundry list back.

"-twelve cheeseburgers, seven medium fries, two Quarter-Pounders, and-"

"Oh, add a strawberry milkshake please." I interject as gently as I can, the younger woman behind the counter not seeming to mind.

"One strawberry milkshake, and a fudge sundae."

"That's right," Axl confirms.

Only now, does he let go of my hand to reach into his pocket as the woman gives him the very large total.

I've never seen someone order so much fast food before, but we are feeding an entire rock band, after all.

The stack of cash Axl pulls out of his pocket is also something I've never seen before. He has to move about four hundreds out of the way to get to his twenty's.

_Holy shit. . ._

Now I feel even worse than I did ten minutes ago.

_All that could be gone. A year ago he was practically homeless, and now he's about to be on top. I'm ruining that for him. Everything he's worked so hard for. Gone. Because of me._

We don't talk while we wait to hear our number, not bothering as it somehow becomes busier and louder in the resturant the longer we're here.

I help carry all our bags full of food to the car, carefully setting some in the backseat. Axl waits for me to get into the passenger's before setting the drink holder in my lap and shutting the door after.

Immediately, I start messing with the stero. Anything to try and distract myself from my sorrows, right? Music helps everything.

Axl notices just what it is I'm doing from outside the car almost immediately, and I can hear his sighs as he gets in.

His hand slaps down over mine right away, a shitty attempt at stopping me. "Uh-uh. Stop, Chas."

"Oh, c'mon William!" I give him a frown. "Let me be the DJ for once," I plead, continuing to go through the stations, one hand holding the Cokes steady.

The people Axl always has playing nonstop are Iggy Pop and The Stones. _Not today!_

I gasp when it gets to the local pop station.

_"Jenny Jennnyyyyy. . ."_

Axl gasps right back, mockingly. "Absolutely not!"

"Yesss! I _love_ this song!"

I sing about Jenny's phone number, pretending I can't hear Axl as he backs out of our parking spot and heads down the road, back the way we came.

When Madonna comes on next and Axl's hands don't go anywhere near the radio, I nearly let out a sigh of relief.

"Have you met her yet?"

"Who, Madonna?"

"Yeah," I nod.

Axl laughs at me. "Nope. She's not really in the same realm as us."

"I know," I say simply. "But when you meet her, be sure to tell her that I love her. And that seeing her in concert was the best day of my life."

Michelle and I camped out for tickets to The Virgin Tour. My parents despised the infamous VMA's performance, but let me go anyway. The night of the concert, Michelle and I wore lace gloves and red lipstick and when she sang "Dress You Up", we practically cried.

"Girls are gonna say stuff like that about Guns N' Roses one day, you know."

Axl looks right at me, almost in disbelief. "No."

"Yes, they will. They're gonna scream and cry when they see you, and buy your records and t-shirts, and kiss your poster at night," I tease.

He doesn't even know what's lying in his future. Teenage girls are a whole other breed.

Thinking about it now makes jealousy boil up in me. I don't like the idea of other girls talking about him, or wishing they could kiss him.

_None of them will know him like I do, though. Right?_

"Stop feeding my ego, kid."

"Well it's true! How could they not? Especially when you're you. . . And-and everyone else is them, you know?"

_Good save, Chas. Really good._

I wince, praying Axl doesn't pay any attention to what I just said. I'm pretty sure we're near the studio now, all the buildings looking taller and nicer with each block.

"Oh, stop it. I wouldn't be able to do it all without you. You'll always get our t-shirts and the records before anyone else does. Make sure they're cry-worthy for us," He jokes.

I can't say I would blame any of those girls, though. I really can't. Not when Axl is Axl.

"It would be my pleasure," I say proudly, heart beaming. I hide my smile by turning and looking out the window, not even caring that my hands are now a little numb from holding onto the cups full of ice and soda.

_I can't believe this. I can't believe I feel this way. Over Axl, of all people. Ugh._

The sun is setting a bit lower in the sky as Axl parks in a spot right up front, yellow hues appearing alongside the skyscrapers and clouds. The dread sets in when I'm reminded it's a school night, but I'm able to forget as soon as Axl brushes against me as he takes the sodas back, allowing me to exit the Camaro.

In the lobby, the woman behind the desk holds a phone up to her ear, not paying any attention to us as we head for the door leading to the rest of the building, all the McDonald's bags just barely fitting in our arms. The smell of fried food is so strong I can hear my stomach grumble. The last time I ate was lunch, and that was hours ago.

I hurry up behind Axl a little, eager to get to the part where we can finally eat.

I'm not even through the threshold of the door to the control room labeled " _GUNS N' ROSES"_ when Slash snatches one of the brown golden arches bags from me, immediately rifiling through it like he hasn't eaten in days.

"Fuckin' finally!" He weeps, eyes wide with wonder as he peels back the yellow wrapper of a cheeseburger.

Duff mumbles a 'hey' as he takes the other large bag I carry off my hands, finding food for himself.

"They're ravenous," Izzy tells Axl while helping pass out the rest of the food. He has sunglasses on now, but as he tilts his head down, I can see the look of dissatisfaction in his eyes as he passes by Steve, who sits on the floor. "C'mon, man. You've gotta eat so we can play."

Steve merely groans, rubbing at his head. His blue eyes are surrounded by deep rings of purple, something I didn't notice earlier.

All the guys look worn out, really. Even Axl.

It truly hits me that I haven't seen any of them in weeks. They've been on tour, playing show after show. Traveling by day, playing at night. Hustling. Trying to make a living. They've got to be utterly exhaused.

I eat just enough to feel satisfied, letting the boys have the rest. I only claim my strawberry milkshake as mine and mine only, gulping more than half of it down in minutes. It might not exactly be ice cream, but it's more than close enough for now. Michelle clearly has the same rationing mindset going on as she nibbles on her fries, the two of us sitting beside one another criss-cross, allowing Axl and Izzy and Slash to squeeze onto one sofa, Duff on the love seat, Steve leaning up against the other half.

No one says anything. It's silent, besides their frantic eating that takes up no more than ten minutes, everything completely devoured afterwards. Izzy even eats the ice in his cup.

Once the garbage has found itself in the trash can near the door, they're ready to work, just like that.

Michelle and I don't move anything but our eyes as we watch things fall into place. Important people enter the room, taking their places around the console. Izzy and Slash go in first, and they play through the chorus of a song I don't know the name of. Axl has them play the vocals he recorded over the guitars, and it's like a match made in heaven.

This only repeats. It happens again, when Steven appears to look more upbeat behind the kit in the live room. And when Duff goes in, and plays through his part. In less than an hour, they get through two songs.

Michelle and I ask to hear them both more than a few times, unable to comprehend what we're hearing with our own ears.

"And you say this isn't about me?" Michelle says, dumbfounded.

"No, it's not about you! It's about this crazy chick we know," Duff scoffs.

"Sounds like me," Michelle laughs.

"I love it," I say to everyone as I look at Axl. "I've never heard anything like that before."

"I wrote it," Izzy says proudly.

"About me," Michelle insists. Now she's just trying to be funny.

Duff isn't having it, though. "Oh, for Pete's sake! Not everything is about you."

Axl and I burst into laughter as Michelle narrows her eyes at Michael, ready to spit something even meaner back at him.

"Then maybe you should mind your business when it comes to me, Michael."

I watch their bickering turn into a full on argument as Billy begins to come up, the rest of the band only able to witness it all unfold as well.

I knew something like this would happen. There was no way the Billy conversation would just end back in the car. Michelle's probably been plotting ways to bring it back to the surface and shove it in her brother's face.

"Who's Billy?"

"This guy Michelle likes," I say quietly to Axl who's behind me. "She wants him to take her to prom Saturday," I offer up, turning slightly to look back at him. I leave out the part where Michelle was supposed to loose her virginity to him tonight.

"Prom is Saturday?"

"Yeah. I forgot, actually. Till right now," I say, surprising myself.

My mind has been too preoccupied thinking about my epiphany while prom shopping than the actual event itself. Time passes by quickly when you've got a bunch of other things to worry about.

"Well that's exciting, huh?"

I can't tell if that's genuine enthusiasm I'm hearing from him or not.

"And who's taking you?"

My body goes rigid, not even the need to breathe shaking me out of my inner panic.

_I want you to take me, Axl._

"N-no one," I talk fast, trying to hide my feelings about this particular subject as best I can. "No one's asked me."

Axl looks puzzled, as if he doesn't believe what I'm saying at all. "You're kidding me."

"Only Dylan has."

I see him soften at that name. I feel his hand brush against mine, like he could feel the pang it just left in my chest and the bad taste it left in my mouth.

"I'm gonna take care of it, babydoll. All of it."

I squeeze at his hands, nodding. Believing him. Remembering earlier, when he didn't let go, even in front of all those people.

We spend the rest of the night together, until I'm walking up to my front door, those same words echoing in my head.

" _All of it. . ._ _"_


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prom night! The visual for this chapter can be found on my tumblr, @axlnchas! Search for "chapter 18" in my tags! Other chapter visuals are also up :) Enjoy!!

My mother looks teary eyed as she stands at the bottom of the staircase. "You look so beautiful! Look at our little girl, Ben," She frantically taps my father's shoulder, trying to get his attention off my brother and sister fighting over the T.V. remote.

When Dad finally looks up, his hard exterior breaks. Just a _little_. "Oh, honey! Your mother's right. . . I don't know about that black dress though-"

He's cut off by Mom swatting him on the arm. "Leave her alone. It's beautiful! It's a beautiful dress, sweetheart. Tell her it's beautiful."

I laugh, looking down at the black silk and tulle party dress that my father doesn't approve of. It stops right above the knee, and of course doesn't cover my shoulders except for the thin, beaded spaghetti straps.

This was the dress I selected during my melancholy, my revelation about Axl. Inside, I was crying and wanted nothing more than to be home, watching romantic movies and wallowing in my own problems. Outside, I was in the middle of the Junior's section of the department store, being forced by my mother to "just pick a darn dress already!"

Sure, it's a little goth for prom, but it's fitting.

"Fine, fine," My father sighs deeply. "It's very pretty. I just don't know why it has to be so _dark,_ that's all." His accent places a stress on the word dark, and it makes my mother roll her eyes.

"Look at your sister!" My mother snaps her fingers at Shawn and Layla, who are still bickering with one another.

Shawn makes a face. "You look like you're going to a funeral."

_I_ roll my eyes now as I finish making it down the stairs, careful to hold onto the wooden railing and watch my footing in these heels. "Thanks. That's really nice!"

Layla tries to make up for our brother. "A fun funeral!"

My dad finds that to be hilarious, but not my mother. Pretty soon, they're all yelling about what is and isn't appropriate. Shawn only angers them more by repeating it all over again.

"Hey! I have to go, remember?"

Michelle is waiting for me, no doubt.

"Right! C'mon, take your pictures, Silvia. Let's not hold her up," My father claps, calling attention.

The flash of the camera makes my eyes water as my mother uses up about a whole roll of film. She makes me take pictures alone, ones with my brother and sister together, with my dad. As many as she can possibly take, really.

I conpletely mess up one when I see the front door open, and Michelle walks into the house.

"Chasity, we need to go!"

It's hard for me to contain my excitement as I look at her. The long, slinky silver gown and matching heels she picked out both look perfect on her, especially with her blonde hair. She looks ready for prom, and I look like I'm going to a funeral.

Michelle hugs me tight. "Ah! I can't believe it's PROM! I'm so excited."

"Me too," I lie. _Just a little_. I pull away from her arms to get a better look at her up close. Her makeup is similar to mine, blush and glossy lips and lots of mascara. "You look so pretty!"

"So do you! I'm actually glad you picked this one!" Michelle's hand touches the bottom of my skirt, her fingers running along the layer of delicate black shiny beads on the tulle.

That day in the Junior's section, she couldn't believe I wanted a black dress. Kind of like my family now.

"Picture! Look this way," My mother already has her eye up to the viewfinder when Michelle and I smile, the flash making Michelle curse under her breath like I did.

"Tell Alice I'll make her a copy!"

"Tell Alice what? What did Michelle do now?"

Michelle and I both nearly get whiplash as we turn to look at her mother standing in the doorway, Duff closely behind.

It's another big affair as Alice goes around, making sure she hugs me and my siblings, telling me how goregous and mature I've come to be. Duff looks so sad as he gives me a hug, going on and on about how old Michelle and I have become.

"Michael, get in for a picture!" Mom gestures for him to move over to Michelle and I.

Alice stands beside her, wanting photographic evidence of this moment just as much as my mother.

"Are you sure? I'm headin' out for our gig, I don't wanna ruin the whole uh, _vibe_ , with my look." Duff grabs at his leather jacket.

"Just get in the picture!" I tell him, more than ready to be done with my mother and her camera.

I don't want to document this night. I could care less, at this point. _Only Axl could make this better. . ._

Today is the only day Michael doesn't need to crouch down to get into a picture with us, thanks to our shoes.

As expected, I see him struggling not to blink out of the corner of my eye, the camera making a loud _click!_ and my mother almost begins to cry all over again.

"Aren't they so grown? It's like last week they were little kids. . . Now Chasity and Michelle are going to senior prom and-and Michael's band is about to make it big!. . . I'm sorry, I'll stop it." Mom sniffles, frowning.

"You're gonna make 'em late, Sil." Dad warns her again.

Alice hugs Mom now, trying to console her before it's too late.

"I can take them," Duff says then.

" _No_!"

Michelle and I can't say the same answer quick enough, because our parents start to agree, going on and on about how good he's turned out to be.

"We can walk," I say.

"It's not far at all," Michelle adds. "We already discussed how we're getting there, remember mom?"

"Let your brother take you," Alice insists. "It's not every day you go to prom! Let Duff feel like he's a part of your special day."

"It's really okay-"

"Don't be rude, Chasity Grace! If Michael wants to give you a ride, he can."

Michelle and I give up.

It takes another five minutes for us to be able to leave the house, especially when Michelle says out of nowhere that I'll be sleeping over. When her index finger and thumb come together to pinch the inside of my wrist ever so slightly, I clamp my jaw shut, right before I'm about to ask her when did we agree that was happening.

_Oh god. She's going to sneak out and make_ me _cover for her. Unbelievable._

Our parents watch us from the driveway as we walk across the street, to the van. Michelle and I nearly die of embarassment as we sit in the back, not even having left the parking spot yet.

Prince is blaring from the radio the second Duff turns over the key in the ignition, Little Red Corvette scaring the living daylights out of Michelle as she jumps, grabbing my arm.

Both me and Duff laugh at her as we drive away, headed towards school.

"Alright, alright. It wasn't that funny," She grumbles.

Duff looks at her in his mirror. "Was too! You should've seen your face."

I feel panic go through me when I realize we're less than a block from school. "Stop here!"

"What-"

"Stop here, Michael!" Michelle practically shouts.

The breaks come to a screeching halt, and Michelle and I immediately unclick our seatbelts, hurrying to get out of the car before anyone can drive by and see us getting dropped off a block away from prom like the losers we are.

Billy should've came to pick Michelle up and I probably would've tagged along as a third wheel, but she knew all hell would break loose if he showed up in front of her house in his practically destroyed Toyota.

Michelle slams the door shut once she's out of the car, careful to not get her dress caught while she yells out a quick bye to her brother.

"Thanks for driving us," I hold the door open to speak to him from outside the car. He really didn't have to, but he did. I mean, we were forced, but still.

"Of course, Chassy. You keep an eye on her, okay?" Duff is turned in his seat to look at me, and he points a finger out the back window, to where Michelle waits impatiently for me.

"Okay," I nod.

"See you! Love you girls!"

"Love you too!"

My heels are loud on the pavement as I jog a little to reach Michelle, and we fall into a comfortable stride just as we hear Duff's van take off.

"Brooke and her boyfriend are throwing an after party at her house in Falling Springs."

I glance at Michelle. "Oh, so that's your plan, huh?"

Falling Springs is one of the nicest neighborhoods I've ever heard of. I've never been past the front gates, but it's home to mini mansions and people like Brooke, one of the most popular girls in our school who's up for prom queen. She's on the volleyball team with Michelle, too.

"Why of course! And Billy's band is the entertainment. It's going to be so much fun!" Michelle giggles excitedly, grinning as we walk.

I see her look at me a couple times, my smile must not seeming as authentic as I hope it does. I don't want to spoil her fun, not at all.

"Dylan isn't going to bother you. It's gonna be fine."

"I'm not worried about that," I reassure her. _I haven't had time to think about that, Michelle. I've been too involved in my feelings for our twenty-five year old friend._

We begin to encounter traffic once we cross the street, the line to get into the student parking lot pretty long. There's a few limousines, but not many.

Up near the front entrance to the school, it's easy to spot Billy.

He stands just before the sidewalk, in the street. In his hand is a lit cigarette, and from the top of the steps, I see Ms. Lemmons, my independent study teacher, staring Billy down.

Michelle immediately comes to life. "Billy!"

"Hey!" He calls out to her before taking a drag. He wears a crinkled white button up, with black suspenders and dress pants. His sleeves are pushed and rolled up to his elbows, and as Michelle and I get closer, I see his hands are stained with red and blue, the colors of his hair.

"You can't smoke like this, Billy. They'll threaten to expell you again," Michelle warns gently.

I can't help it when I glance back up at Ms. Lemmons, where she's still eyeing Billy and his illegal activity. Subconsciously, I move over a few steps, almost to say I'm not involved.

"She can't do anything," Billy counters as he shakes his head, exhaling smoke. "I'm off school property," He gestures towards the ground, and how he is technically off the sidewalk.

I resist the urge to sneeze as his smoke fills the air more and more, still not used to cigarettes despite being near people who smoke quite often. The guys usually refrain from lighting cigarettes around Michelle and I, especially Duff, unless they just can't wait. My dad smoked when I was little, but my mother insisted he cut out the habit, and he was successful in quitting.

_I wonder if Michelle smokes with Billy when they're alone. . ._

It's weird, watching her talk and flirt with him. It was weird the other day, and all the times before that, and it still is now.

_Imagine how she would feel if she knew how you and Axl were, though. She would be repulsed, Chas._

I let Michelle and Billy walk ahead of me after he stomps out his cigarette with his Doc Martens, his arm draped over her shoulder.

Ms. Lemmons tells Billy to watch himself as we go up the stairs into school, and he simply says "Sure."

I resist the urge to laugh, still unable to comprehend all the nerve he possesses. He's a different breed.

Once, I heard he pulled out a flask during second period and drank from it.

"C'mon," Michelle gestures for me to catch up with her when Billy goes to talk to his friends.

The theme of our dance is "Starry Night" and upon entering the gym, I see the student council went a bit ovetboard.

Sparkly silver and gold stars hang from the twine strung up over the whole gym, all the other decorations matching in tackiness. There's lots of room to dance, and it's nearly full already. A Duran-Duran song plays over the soundsystem. All the designated chaperones are in their places, especially near the refreshment table.

Most girls have dates, some are with their larger friend groups, and others are alone, like me.

I can't decide if I wish I had gotten to see Axl tonight or not. I don't know if him seeing me would've made me happy. I could've pretended that for just a split second that he's my date, that he thinks about me all the time too.

Or maybe it would've hurt. Maybe he wouldn't of paid any attention, brushing the occasion over. Duff did say they're playing a show. If the girls tonight will look anything like the ones at the video shoot, I'm more than irrelevant.

I hope that Billy and his entourage are successful in getting past our principal and spiking the punch bowl. I really, really hope so.

_Anything to forget_ _him._

Michelle makes me dance with her, and I'll admit it, it's fun. We sing to each other, laughing until it hurts. Billy whisks Michelle away for all the slow songs, allowing me to take a break from standing in the heels that have begun to hurt my feet. They get yelled at at least a handful of times, Billy's moves way too provocative for a school function.

When it's time to crown Prom Queen and King, Michelle and I cheer louder than anyone else when Brooke is crowned, her boyfriend right after. _We knew it!_

They dance to Melt With You, and I go to the bathroom to avoid having to think about this song being the one I would want to dance with Axl to.

When I go back to the table Michelle and Billy are sitting at, the slow dancing is over, and they're finally drinking the punch. A cup of my own waits for me, thanks to Michelle.

The role of intoxicating the entire senior class has been placed in the hands of Jeremy, Billy's friend. I saw him standing around the general area of the punch earlier, looking suspicious.

I bring the styrofoam cup full of red liquid up to my nose before taking a sip, the drink tasting just as it smells-like cheap alcohol.

No one stops me as I go up for a second serving. My body feels a little light, my head clearer yet so drowned out at the same time. Not drunk, but tipsy. Kind of how I felt at Christmas one year when my parents let me have wine. I embrace it, allowing myself not to think about what's going on outside this room.

By the time the teachers find out the drink of the evening has been tainted, Jeremy has already bailed, saying goodbye to everyone, even me. They don't let anyone else drink from it, instead taking it away to be dumped in the cafeteria. Our principal announces that they'll catch who did it, along with introducing the last song of the night. Crazy For You, by Madonna.

Michelle and I just look at each other for a moment as the music comes on, knowing that we have to dance to this one together.

Billy really isn't so bad after all-he lets Michelle go with me, sitting this one out.

I decide that I like him for her.

" _Crazy for you, touch me once and you know it's true. . ."_

Michelle sings into my ear at the same moment I do hers, both of us having had way too much of that punch. I know that she's remembering when we heard this song live, in Freshman year, just like I am. I hug her tighter, my eyes squeezing shut.

We were so young then. I suppose we still are, but not in the same way we used to be. I've evolved alongside Michelle. Everything that has ever happened to me, she's been there for.

And now she's here next to me at prom, and we graduate in a few week's time.

I decide that I should probably tell her about what's happened with Axl and I, and I will myself to remember that when I'm not under the influence.

_She deserves to know. I can't keep a secret like that from her any longer. I just can't. I love her too much._

"I love you, Michelle."

"I love you too, Chasity Grace!" Michelle shouts over Madonna, laughing as she does.

Our swaying comes to an end the second the song is over. The blinding overhead lights come on, a part of the teacher's efforts to get us all to leave promptly.

I interlock my arm with Michelle's as to not get separated while shuffling out of the gym with the rest of the senior class, the hallways packed.

Outside, I feel all traces of alcohol practically evaporate from my body as the cold air crawls under my dress, making me shiver as Michelle and I wait for Billy to stop fumbling with his keys beside his Toyota.

"Are you sure you can drive?"

"I've got my license, Chas." Billy finally unlocks the doors to his car, and once we get in, it feels more like a deathtrap.

It reeks of cigarettes, the backseat riddled with cassettes and empty beer cans, a light layer of cigarette ash covering every surface.

I _really_ sober up when I roll the window down halfway, for the sake of the integrity of my lungs. Falling Springs isn't exactly down the road, but even still, I refuse to roll up the window, not caring that the wind is whipping my hair in every direction and makes my face feel a little numb as Billy drives fast, eager to beat the traffic to Brooke's place. I heard most people were heading for her house after the dance, us being no exception.

_What if Dylan is there? What will I do?_

I wipe away those questions as quick as my brain thinks them up, not able to afford the stress of considering what could happen if I see him. How utterly ruined my night would be. _Desecrated_ , really.

"Welcome to the land of the rich!" Billy snickers as he drives the car through the iron gates of Falling Springs.

Michelle laughs beside him in the passenger's seat.

I pray to God that this goes okay, and I pray to anyone who will listen that I don't see Dylan.

And when thoughts of Axl force themselves into my brain, I pray directly to him that he's thinking of me too.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prom night, part 2!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in 3rd person POV for plot's sake! Hope you like it, it's a big one!

Michelle can hardly stand the sight before her.

"Chasity, don't. You could get sick!"

The tiny shot glass in Chasity's hands is so full of vodka that some of it dribbles over the sides, landing on the countertop.

"I don't care, Michelle." Chasity's entire face contorts with disgust as she throws her head back, downing the shot.

The party is lively, the girls only having been there for less than an hour. People mill about the kitchen around them, the rest of the house packed with teenagers. Billy's band plays on their run-down instruments in the living room, before a jumping crowd.

That's where Michelle wishes she currently was. Watching the guy of her dreams. Instead, she's babysitting her best friend.

"Okay. That's enough. You've already had a beer." Michelle holds out her hands, as if Chasity will just hand over her new vice as quickly as she's taken it up.

_Fat chance._

But really, Chas does consider it. Just for a split second, as the sound of Michael McKagan's voice fills her head, over the fuzziness of the alcohol.

_"Chasity, I'm so disappointed in you. . ."_

_It's his fault though,_ Chas counters her subconscious. _Maybe if he didn't drink so much in front of us, I wouldn't know that vodka is what you drink when you want to get_ really _drunk._

She cradles the heavy, cheap bottle to her chest, making Michelle scowl. Chasity doesn't pay any mind. On she goes, pouring another shot.

"I hate him, Michelle." Chasity pouts, her pink lips turning down in a frown. "All he does is make me so, so sad. And I-I-I just wish he would go away forever!"

Michelle only nods, believing Chasity's mood has taken a turn for the worse because of the boy causing her trouble at school.

_Wrong._

It's the _man_ making her question her whole existence that's got her so upset.

Chasity chokes down her second shot like it's the vile medicine of her childhood. The mint flavored one used to treat her frequent ear aches. It's been years since she's had a dose, but she'll always remember it.

Just the same as how she'll never be rid of Axl. _Maybe in body, but not in soul._ Never in her mind.

He's already plaguing her, and nothing has even happened yet.

_Poor girl,_ Michelle tells herself. _I should find Billy. We can't be here. Not when she's like this._

Michelle sighs as she looks at Chasity, who's now staring at the wooden cabinets directly in her line of sight, as if they hold all the answers she's longing for. The tears are already pooling up, and Michelle knows it won't be long until they start to fall.

"I'll be right back, okay? Just. . . Stay here. Don't drink anymore."

Chasity only nods.

The second Michelle is gone, Chas begins to nurse her heartache for the third time.

Everything reminds her of Axl, and how hopeless she's managed to feel about her situation. Billy's band, the rock music loud. Happy couples running by, hands interlocked. The same girl and guy that have been making out in the doorway of the dining room for the last ten minutes. The cigarette smoke wafting in from the open sliding glass door leading to the backyard and in-ground pool. Even the kitchen counters that look identical to Michelle's. . . The same ones she dreamt of Axl pushing her up onto.

It's ridiculous, and Chasity knows it. She bows her head after slamming the vodka and shot glass down onto the counter, taking a deep breath in of Marlboro cigarettes being lit by people in the room next door.

_What do I even want? I know he doesn't like me. I'm just a girl who has nothing better to do. Someone to have fun with. He can't have feelings. He said it himself. He's too busy. I shouldn't even like him. He's a rocker. Lord knows what he's done in his lifetime. I hate him._

"I hate him for doing this to me," Chasity says. No one hears her.

Especially not Michelle, who's managed to locate a phone. She didn't even bother with getting Billy's attention. More than half the party is watching him play, and she can't interrupt a moment like that for him. They don't sound too bad for once, either.

The line is ringing as she taps a long fingernail on the wooden nightstand the telephone reciever rests on. She's in what appears to be a guest bedroom, one of many, actually.

Michelle holds her breath as she hears the line go live, waiting to know her and Chasity's fate.

"You've got the McKagans."

_Michael._

Michelle whispers up a prayer to the heavens before answering her brother. "Oh, thank God."

"Michelle?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Why are you calling? Where are you at?"

Just then, screams of the crowd downstairs get loud, the floor beneath Michelle's heels vibrating with the noise.

"Me? What about you?! You're supposed to be at a gig."

It was a bold decision to call home at eleven-thirty, on a Saturday night, from a party she's not supposed to be at, and hope for Duff to be the one to answer.

Being bold is Michelle's speciality though.

"Ax n' I had to drop off some stuff. We got all those amps in his car that he doesn't need from the gig. The fuckin' venue we played tonight made us bring all our own shit, only for them to actually already have all the shit we need. So because of those mother-fuckers, we had to drive all the way back fuckin' out here to Mom's. God damn-"

"Jesus, this is time sensitive! Chas could be throwing up already, and I wouldn't know because I'm on the phone with you!"

On the opposite end of the line, Duff's eyes go wide. Axl, who's sitting at the McKagan's kitchen table with a beer, makes a confused face at Duff, unable to hear what Michelle just told him.

"What the hell are you talkin' about?" Duff can't help but start to panic.

"We're at a party and you need to pick us up! Like, now!"

"You two are a bunch of troublemakers!" Duff holds the phone to his shoulder then. "Axl, they're at a damn party and Chas is drunk!"

Michelle rolls her eyes. "I heard that, and I don't have time for you to scold me. You need to leave _now_."

Michelle gives Duff the address, and tells him she expects to see him in ten minutes before hanging up without waiting to hear his response.

On her way out of the guest room, the sight outside the bedroom window makes her stop.

The view of the entire sprawling backyard is one to take in. People are swimming in the oval shaped pool, and others are standing in the grass, dancing to a Billy Idol song blasting from a radio that even Michelle can hear.

It's the girl standing near a lawn chair that really catches Michelle's attention, though. The shiny beads on her dress make the blueish lights of the pool reflect off her black skirt, her hair wild. There's a guy in front of her, his back to the window. They look like they're fighting. Screaming at each other, really.

"Chasity and Dylan. Oh my god."

Michelle almost trips on her own dress too many times to count as she races to get down the stairs, hopping over patches of fruit punch soaked carpet and narrowly avoiding the guy asleep on some of the steps.

"-He ripped it up! It's gone, Dylan. You don't have shit on me."

"So then what are these, huh?"

Michelle watches from the sliding glass door as Dylan reaches into his suit jacket, and pulls out what looks like polaroids. People are starting to stare now, and Michelle has to move out of the way as people elbow her to get by.

One second, Chasity and Dylan are standing. The next, they're on the ground right beside the pool, Chasity having the upper hand as her fist blindly hits whatever it can. Dylan's eye, his nose, even the side of his head as she yells. The polaroids are on the ground now.

"I hate you! I fucking hate you, Dylan!"

Michelle's horror only grows as Dylan latches onto Chasity's hair, managing to flip the two of them over as he does it.

"And you're a fucking bitch, Chasity! You could've avoided this if you would've listened to me," Dylan shouts.

He's too busy trying to get his hands around Chasity's throat as she squirms and kicks to see that Michelle has come up behind him, with one of her stiletto heels in her hand.

The crowd roars now, just as she swings.

"You think you're too good for me, but you're wrong, Chasity. I would've loved you, cared about you! But you're just a whore. You're fucking nobody! He doesn't even care about you! Axl Rose doesn't-"

The second the side of Michelle's shoe hits Dylan's skull, he drops, knocked unconscious. Michelle helps Chasity roll him off as she hears Billy's voice above the rest of the crowd circling them.

"Michelle, what the fuck did you do!"

She looks up at where Billy stands pushing through the crowd, his eyes wide.

"More like what the fuck did Dylan Reynolds do! He tried to kill Chas!" She turns to look at him, yelling over the commotion going on all around them.

Behind a distracted Michelle, Chas scrambles to collect any and all pictures along the ground, her fingers shaking as she runs them through the grass.

_4\. . . 5. . . 6. . . 7, 8. . . 9. . ._ She counts each time she grabs another, a pang going through her chest each time. It's stronger than the throbbing of her head, surprisingly.

Chas doesn't even look at them. She just adds each new photograph to the stack in her shaking hands, thankful that the crowd of teenagers could care less about some pictures, when their classmate is unconcious nearby.

Just when she thinks she's gotten them all, Chas spots another. It lies inches from Dylan's outspread hand. There's blood trickling from his nose, caused by one of the blows Chasity got in. She snatches the picture up quickly, afraid he could wake up if she gets too close.

The sight of him just laying there makes her nauseous. It's hard to see if he's still breathing with it being so dark, but sure enough, Chas can see the front of his dress shirt rising and falling.

_Thank God. . ._

"Holy shit, we're forgetting about Chas! Chasity!"

Billy's voice is so loud it startles Chas. She barely managed to slip the pictures into her bra just before he spoke.

Billy hurries over and crouches down as he goes to help Chasity up. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I mostly beat him up." Chasity's words are still a little slurred, the vodka from earlier not having worn off, even after all that. Her headache only gets worse as Billy pulls her up with him by a hand, Michelle getting the other one.

The crowd has hardly dispersed, and people even take to poking Dylan mockingly, and cheering Michelle on. She can't help it when she yells out that "she couldn't help but do it, he's an asshole after all!"

Michelle and Chas both feel on edge as newfound commotion inside the house can be heard. It sounds like it's moving, getting closer and closer to the backyard.

"What's that?" Chas mumbles from between Michelle and Billy.

"I have no idea-Oh. Oh god. I didn't tell them to come inside."

"Huh? What're you talking about?" Chasity stares at her with wide, confused eyes.

Billy looks at Michelle. "What's going on now? God, who'd you call? The cops?"

"No. Just my brother," Michelle says hesitantly, her own panic evident in her voice. "And Axl Rose."

Chasity's vision goes black for a second.

"YOU CALLED WHO?"


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prom night, part 3!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in 3rd person POV for plot's sake!

"This is a bad idea, Duff. They can handle themselves."

"Well if they're not comin' out, then we're going in. I don't care if we embarass them, Axl. They shouldn't be out at a party like this anyway."

Duff and Axl's strides match as they walk up the long drive to the house that corresponds with the address Michelle gave. Already, the sounds of the party going on inside are booming, and Duff wonders why he's the one about to be shutting it down, and not the neighbors.

He starts shaking his head then, anger filling his insides. So much so, that he stops in his tracks, hands running through his blond hair. "I can't believe them! God, they've got me out here, at a highschool party to pick their asses up! It's almost _one_."

Axl rolls his eyes, sighing deeply. He's not thrilled himself, but jeeze, could Duff relax a little? _This is the same guy who stays out till eight A.M., high out of his mind,_ Axl thinks to himself. _I know the girls are a soft spot, but seriously. . ._

"She told me Chas could've been throwing up. . . She's just a kid, Ax!"

_I need a fucking drink._ "Yeah, and we're here now, so are we gonna go in there and get her and Michelle or not? Look man, I'm worried about 'em too. I don't want them doin' anything bad. But sitting out here having a panic attack isn't gonna help us."

Axl so badly wants to see Chas, and make sure she's okay. When Duff was screaming in the car about everything Michelle did and didn't say, Axl couldn't press on the gas any more than he already was. They ran through two red lights.

Duff just nods. "You're right. Okay. Ugh, fuck. I hated high school. Let's go, damn it."

The second the two of them step through the slightly ajar front door, kids stare.

No one gets in their way, or says anything. It's all in their expressions-confusion, curiosity, even fear.

"I hate this," Duff grumbles the second he passes by a girl in a huge frilly prom dress, who spills some of her drink down the front of it as she stares.

"Are we just gonna wander around like a parade or some shit, or should we ask somebody if they've seen 'em?" Axl murmurs back, praying Duff can hear him over Billy Idol. If he talks any louder, he's afraid people's heads will spin all the way around.

"Ugh, fuck."

It's another two minutes before Axl rolls his eyes at Duff again, and marches up to the closest group of kids. "You know Michelle and Chasity?"

They don't look up at first, but after a few awkward seconds, one of them, a girl, pays attention to Axl, and just behind him, Duff.

"You talkin' to me?"

"Yeah. You know Michelle and Chasity?"

"I'm their brother," Duff adds.

Axl shoots him a look at that.

"Oh." The girl looks back and forth from Duff to Axl, a smile growing on her face. "Yeah, I know them! They were just in the backyard. Dylan Reynolds attacked Chasity, and Michelle threw her shoe at him!"

"She knocked him out. You should've seen it!" One of the girls nearby adds. "Chasity put up such a fight! It was crazy."

In this moment, Duff feels like he's detatched from his body. Like this can't be happening.

Axl can't even process it. His mind is blank, until vivid fantasies of bashing in Dylan's skull fills his head.

"Excuse me-What the hell?!" Duff shouts now, screaming right into Axl's ear.

The girls back away a little at that.

"Sorry-But what?!" Duff only gets louder now, and people nearby start to crowd around.

"Woah, you guys can calm down, they're fine-"

At the same time, Duff and Axl take off as quick as possible, barreling through the jam-packed house in their boots and leather, causing a whole mob of people to follow them in their commotion.

Outside, Chasity nearly falls to her feet the second she gets a glance at Axl.

"Why would you call them?! I don't wanna see him!" She shrieks, practically hiding herself behind Michelle.

So much longing wells up in her chest, alongside all her pain.

It's hard to focus solely on that though, because then Duff and Axl are up in her and Michelle's faces.

"We were outside forever! What the fuck-You actually knocked him out?" Duff hollers, both his hands gesturing to the ground where Dylan lays, asleep.

Some guys from the football team Dylan is the quarterback for have taken to trying to wake him up, fanning his face and everything.

"He's fine! He's a fucking dick!" Michelle fires back, just as loud. "I got off the phone with you, and he was trying to kill Chas!"

All eyes snap to Chasity now, as she feels her own start to water.

"I don't wanna talk about it," She mutters, wrapping her arms around herself.

It only makes Axl more upset, seeing her this way.

_The girl looks like she's seen a ghost,_ He thinks to himself. _That fucking asshole. . ._

"No one hurts you and gets away with it."

Everything happens so quickly then, Michelle and Chasity unable to keep up with the chain of events.

One second, Axl is marching to where Dylan and his supporters are, and then the next, he's throwing a punch at one of Dylan's disciples.

"Axl!"

"Oh my god. Oh my god." Chasity can't do anything except for bury her face in Michelle's shoulder. Flashes of Axl in handcuffs, then a mugshot fill her head, and she thinks about how this night can't get any worse.

At least, not until Axl starts slapping Dylan across the face.

"Wake up, motherfucker!"

Duff and Billy are now fending off the football players, one of which already has a black eye forming from Axl's rings.

"Let's just go! C'mon!" Michelle pleads, not able to stomach the sight before her too well either. _Getting him to stop trying to choke out Chasity was one thing. Waking him up just to put him under again is another. . ._

Seeing Axl and a now awake and really, really angry Dylan wrestle it out in Brooke's backyard was something no one thought they'd be seeing, but they better believe it.

Duff momentarily steps away from the kid he just decked to go over to Dylan, and manages to get in a few punches of his own. "Keep this motherfucker still, Axl! This'll fucking teach him."

All Michelle can truly do is stare, her hand holding Chasity's so tight it hurts.

Dylan lays there, a shit-eating grin on his face as he looks up at Axl, blood running into his mouth as he does. "I beat up your bitch, Axl! But you know what? Maybe I should've just done what you do instead, maybe I should've-"

"Shut the fuck _up_! I'm gonna kill you, you son of bitch. You're not gonna wake up once I'm done. You're never gonna look at her, or lay your hands on her ever again! I'm gonna kill you." Axl roars, his voice not that far from sounding like an animal. It's entirely carnal now as he does as Chasity did earlier, hitting and punching whatever parts of Dylan he can, only with so much more force.

It makes Chasity's stomach turn as she hears the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and when she gets the courage to look up and make sure that it's not Axl on the ground, Dylan's face is just a blur of bright red.

"Oh my god." Chasity stares in horror, not even breathing. "Duff! Axl! Stop it!" She can hardly get her words out through her sobs. _This is all my fault. If I had just sat there in the car that afternoon, if I hadn't told Dylan anything. If I had just dealt with it, gone on a date with him. None of this would've happened._

" _Please_ stop. Oh my god, please stop!"

By some miracle, Axl listens.

Panting, he stops his own fist, mid-air, his body hunched over Dylan's in the grass. For a second, it's like all he sees is Chas as he glances over his shoulder.

The girl he's currently fighting for. One he'd defend till the end. That's been more than proven tonight.

The girl he's falling for, so fucking fast.

_Chasity._

"Take me home, Axl. Please."

Just like that, Axl gets to his feet. He doesn't even care that Dylan is still alive, but all that matters is Chasity.

"Stay away from her," Axl warns one last time.

Dylan mutters a fuck you, but Axl could care less. He feels filthy now, and not just because he's got somebody else's blood on him. Dylan's entire being makes him feel that way.

"Let's get the fuck outta here."

On their way out, Duff, Michelle, Chasity, and Axl all don't look back.

They run out of Brooke's house like there's no tomorrow. Luckily, they don't have to push anyone out of the way, because people step back immediately, letting them pass.

Once they reach the Camaro, Duff gets behind the wheel, Michelle taking shotgun, as Chasity and Axl slide into the backseat.

"Drive, Michael! Go, go, go!" Michelle pounds on the dash.

"Careful! She's still new!" Axl scolds Michelle.

Duff turns the key in the ignition, and the breaks squeal the second the car lurches forward.

As Axl grabs at the back of the front seat with his hands, his rings catch the light flooding into the car from the back window. Chasity's eyes gravitate to them immediately, and just as quickly as she sees the blood and bruises marking Axl's knuckles, she begins to cry all over again.

Those same hands come up to the side of her face then. Axl's thumbs smear the mascara running down her cheeks as he cradles her face in his hands. "Oh, Chas. I'm so fucking sorry, honey. You're alright."

Chasity grips onto his leather-jacket clad forearms, her heart pounding. "No I'm not, Axl-"

"No time for talking! I gotta concentrate! Holy fuck. I can't believe this shit!" Duff yells over the engine.

"You can slow down, you know! No one's after us. Dylan certainly isn't. God, that was nuts! You're both crazy." Michelle says in disbelief.

"No one hurts Chas and gets away with it," Axl says quietly, still looking at her. He can't even remember how angry he was five minutes ago as he stares at Chas. "I won't let anything bad happen like that ever again."

"Ditto!" Duff agrees.

Chasity is so close to opening her mouth and asking Axl why. _Why does he do this to me? Why does he make me think that maybe, just maybe, he could see me as more?_

She just cries instead. Maybe it's the vodka, or the shock from everything she's experienced, or all of it. She doesn't really know.

Chas isn't sure of anything, except for that she's going to be sick the more she cries, and the longer she stares at Axl's wounded hands.

Axl's sure of it too, just from the look on her face. "Pull over, Duff!"

They're down the street from the high school when Chasity empties the contents of her stomach near the curb. Axl's the one to make sure she doesn't fall out of the car or get it in her hair as she does.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" Michelle squirms, trying to cover her ears. "Could this night get any worse?!"

"She can't hold her liquor like you," Duff insists. He can't help but feel bad. When he first started drinking, he was a hundred and ten pounds and as skinny as ever, just a kid. His first night in a club was spent in the bathroom.

"You're alright, Chas." Axl tells her, one hand firmly gripping onto her hair, the other on her back as she holds onto the car door.

"Oh my god, I-I'm so sorry!" Chasity gasps, groaning. "I-I hope I didn't r-ruin your car."

"You didn't, don't worry. Do you feel better now?"

"Still kinda drunk. Ugh-"

Axl has to look away this time, a pang going through his chest as Chas sobs a little through her heaving.

It's another few minutes before Chasity collapses against the leather seat as Duff drives off.

"What are we gonna do, Axl? We can't take her home, and we can't go to Alice's either. She could throw up again, wake the whole house up. Her parents would kill everybody in this car if they found out."

"Oh my god. You're not saying we're going to your apartment? Are we?" Michelle looks at her brother as if he's grown a second head. "I've never been to your place."

Axl sighs, looking at Chas. Her eyes are closed, and her makeup is on the leather now, but he couldn't care less. "We don't got a choice."

Instead of turning down the girls' street up ahead, Duff stays straight, until the car merges onto the highway. They follow all the signs that read _"LOS ANGELES"._


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See the "big brother" tag on this story??? This chapter is why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Chas's POV!

Everything smells like Axl the second I wake up.

The fluffy white bed sheets, the pillows, the black Sunset Strip Tattoo t-shirt, the _boxers_ covering my legs.

_Oh my god._

Despite how badly my head pounds, I see that the bed is _big._ At least a queen, but probably a king. It looks like it goes on forever, spreading out from the center of the room.

On the night stand rests a pack of cigarettes. Marlboro Reds. Next to them, an ash tray, and a pair of glasses. On the floor, are two stacks of books in a corner, beside a dresser. There's a record player on the top, and the album propped up against it reads "ZZ TOP". The closet door at the other side of the room is half open, and inside it's filled to the brim with clothes.

_This room_ must _belong to Axl._

"Oh my god."

I'm in Axl's room. I'm in his bed. I don't know how, or why.

I look beside me, nearly expecting to see him asleep. But he isn't. The sheets are perfectly made still, the pillow looking untouched.

On the floor is my prom dress, but no clothing that could be Axl's. Nothing looks out of place in here, except for what I've added to it.

I let out a sigh of relief. But not before letting myself fall back onto the bed, spreading my arms wide.

_I slept in Axl's bed last night._

As I lay in silence, I realize that I can hear faint voices, familiar ones.

I can't be bothered to get up, though. This is like a dream. If I think about it too much, it might end. I've never even been to the band's apartment before, yet here I am, in a t-shirt I've seen on Axl plenty of times, in his _BED_.

Then last night hits me like a pile of bricks. What I can remember, at least.

How much I started to drink. Dylan pinning me to the ground. Axl beating the living shit out of him. _The pictures._

Oh, jesus. Those fucking pictures. I don't even know what they're of! Axl and I, obviously. But when? Doing what? Oh my god.

When I tell him, he's going to flip out.

I try to not even think about that, before I pass out as I lay here.

_Calm down. You don't know that it was him! Relax._

As I take a deep breath in, I'm hit with another wave of Axl. His cologne, maybe aftershave. Whatever it is, it's familiar enough for me to conclude that it's the same scent I smell when I kiss him.

_Jesus Christ._ When _I kiss him. Chasity, this has got to stop. I'm ruining his life every time I kiss him_.

Knowing that makes me feel awful. Horrible.

I could cry just thinking about it, but I don't think I have enough energy for that. I still feel so terrible. I can feel my pulse in my head.

The sound of the door creaking open hurts, making me bury my head in the pillows.

"Chassy, I know you're awake."

My stomach drops, in the best way possible.

"Why am I in your bed?" I ask, my voice muffled by the comforter. I don't bother to look behind me, at where he probably stands in the doorway, looking like a god. I can't face him, not when I've found myself in _this_ situation.

"'Cause you were plastered last night!" Axl's laughs are deep, his voice still giving away that it's morning, and he was asleep not long ago. "I slept on the couch. But uh, we couldn't take you home. I didn't want you to get in trouble."

If I had the strength, I'd run out of bed just to hug him at that. My parents hadn't even crossed my mind, not once.

Instead, I settle for flipping over, and mustering up the courage to take a look at him.

_I was fucking right._

He doesn't even have a shirt on, just pajama pants. And he's leaning against the wall. The way he has his arms crossed makes his biceps bulge.

"Thanks," I squeak out, trying not to look anywhere except for his face. I'm suddenly hyper-aware of my heart beating.

When Axl smiles, I have to try to keep my composure.

"Of course, you little troublemaker. Michelle said you were doing vodka shots!"

I can feel my cheeks get red, my ears hot. "Was I?"

_Yes. I was. I remember. But he doesn't know that._

"Apparently so."

"Did you see me naked last night?"

"No. Michelle helped you out of your dress."

"Oh. Good."

Axl laughs out loud at that, throwing his head back a little. "Yeah, well, I've still seen your polka dot panties, honey. That image ain't never goin' away!" Axl whispers, making me groan.

"Shut up, William! Before I walk over there and make you."

"Come eat, Chasity. I made you breakfast."

A new addition to our little post-prom gathering, Duff, isn't as light-hearted. His voice is stern. A warning. Pretty much the equivalent to "get your ass out here, you're in trouble, kid."

Axl looks behind himself, to where Duff stands in the doorway. "Don't start, she just woke up-"

"Come on, Chas."

_I'm_ so _in trouble._

Despite how much it makes my head throb, I sit up, my feet just barely touching the cool hard wood floors. Immediately, I wish I could lay back down in Axl's ridiculously comfortable bed.

I feel woozy once I get to my feet, my vision dotting with black for a few seconds as I blink. My legs and arms feel limp, like it takes so much more energy just to simply stand.

"I can carry you," Axl offers.

I want to laugh at that. _You? Carry me? So I can lose all my self control?_ "I'm okay. I've got it."

Axl hurries over anyways, like he's ready to lift me up just in case I can't take another step.

That's when I catch a closer glimpse at his hands and arms, and his stomach.

The bruises are blue-purple against his skin, some parts actually more red.

"Dylan did that."

It hurts me so much, you'd think I was the one to inflict it on him.

_It's all my fault._

Axl is quick to respond. "They don't even hurt. I'm fine, babydoll. Don't you worry about me."

I meet his eyes then. "Yeah well, I can't help it. If I had just-"

"Uh-uh. Stop it. You didn't do anything."

"But I did-"

All of the sudden, Axl's face is so close to mine. "You're perfect. Don't blame yourself for anything, really Chas. Now come on. Let's go deal with Duff."

I let him lead me out of his room without another word, into the hallway.

Immediately, I'm stunned. What I was expecting to see out here, I'm not so sure, but it definitely wasn't this.

The hall is long, and it's just as spotless as Axl's room was. I can hear the T.V. on in what must be the living room.

Without a word, I follow Axl closely, looking all around as I do. I pick out which open door leads to Steve's room right away, because it's so much more messy than the rest. Plus, the broken drum sticks on the floor gave it away.

When I take a quick peek in the bathroom, I see four different kinds of hairspray on the counter. Not surprising.

The living room is big, but still typical. A couch, a loveseat, a coffee table that looks like they picked it up on the side of the road (I don't doubt it), the T.V. I heard, and one single picture frame of the band is against a wall.

To the left is the kitchen, where Duff stands over the stovetop. There's eggs out on the counter, pancake mix, and orange juice. I feel sick when I glance above the kitchen cabinets and see bottle after bottle of alcohol, including vodka. _Gross._

And at the wooden kitchen table sits Michelle. Her whole expression changes the second we make eye contact.

She grins, staring at me. I can't help but notice how her outfit isn't very fitting to her either-a t-shirt and shorts, just like me. "How do you like being hungover?"

"It fucking sucks," I answer, taking a seat at the table across from her.

Axl stays standing, resting his arms on the high-rise counter.

"And she's never gonna drink again, right Chas?" Duff turns around, his voice serious.

I can do nothing but stare right back at him, holding my ground. "I don't know yet. I haven't decided."

"Do you know that you puked on the side of the road last night, crying your eyes out about how horrible you felt?" Duff asks, matter-o-factly.

I know he sees the look of embarrassment on my face, and he eats it right up.

"Yeah. I couldn't take you home when you were like that-a mess."

The silence bites into me, and I can't help it when I start staring at the tiled floor instead of him.

"I'm sorry. It was stupid of me, I know."

"When I asked Michelle what you drank, she said vodka."

"Hey, I did not snitch on you, Chas-"

"Yeah, you did! You were outright about it from the beginning." Duff argues with Michelle, who crosses her arms as soon as he talks. "None of us," Duff points a finger, waving it from himself, to Michelle, and to me "Are gonna lie right now."

"Well thanks, Michelle." I say dryly. _I keep all her secrets. All her escapades with Billy. How she told me she sucked him off in his car, on a school night! I covered for her. And yet, she can't keep one little secret for me._

_If only she knew what I've done. . ._

Duff comes over then, and sets down a glass of water and two advil in front of me. When I get a glance at his hands, I see that they look just like Axl's-beaten to a pulp. "Here, hon. Take 'em both."

I murmur a thank you before downing the whole glass, along with the painkillers.

Once he's back near the kitchen counter, Duff takes a long sip from his own glass then, orange juice. I bet there's alcohol in it, though.

"Wasn't it fun? Getting so drunk you couldn't see straight?" He says nonchalantly. 

That makes my whole demeanor change. _He's just trying to push my buttons now._ "You know what, I can't fucking remember, okay?"

"Yeah, because you made a stupid decision."

"Yeah, I did, and I know it."

"Duff, calm down-" Axl tries to defend me, but I'm not having it.

"I don't need your help Axl-" I start, until Duff talks over me.

"No, I've gotta yell at her, Axl. No one else will. We all know I'm too cool to tell her parents, even though that's what I should've done hours ago! Your dad would've been here so quick, angry out of his mind, Chas."

Unlike Axl, when Duff brings up my father, it's comparable to a blow to the chest.

"Duff-"

"Shut up, Axl!" Duff and I both speak at the same time, and I can't say I'm surprised. I go on even further then, unable to hold myself back. 

"You drink all the fucking time! Who are you to yell at me, huh? Mr. 'Where's My Vodka?'! You sound like such a hypocrite when you preach how Michelle and I have to be perfect, how we can't do this and that all the damn time! I'm sick of it. Especially because I know that when you're not around us, you're drinking yourself under the table, and probably doing God knows what else. I'm not seven anymore, we're not still outside in the street playing tag, Michael! I can handle myself. I knew it was bad, and I don't give a shit, so why should you?"

I see that Michelle and Axl are staring at each other in my peripheral vision, but I only look at Duff, head-on.

He looks furious as he runs his hands through his hair, groaning. "Fucking christ," He whispers. "I already have my hands full with this one," Duff motions to Michelle "And now you, too?"

"Oh, so I make _one_ mistake, and all of the sudden I'm some type of delinquent?" _I can't believe him._

"Hey!"

"Please, Michelle!" Duff scowls at her before turning to me. "I never said _that_. But what I _am_ saying is that I don't get it, Chas. Why'd you get drunk?"

"I don't get why you're so hung up on this," I say. "We all got in a fight last night and you haven't said anything about that, but me getting drunk? World War Three."

"I already explained to him how much of a pain in the ass Dylan has been," Axl nods at me once, but it's subtle.

His way of saying _"don't bring up stuff that's already been solved, for both our sakes."_

"I could care less about a fight," Duff laughs. "But the drinking? Chas, we have to talk about it. It scares me."

"Well, don't let it. It's my body, not yours."

"Why did you get drunk in the first place, Chas? I know you've never drank before. What's the appeal, huh?"

"Because I felt like it," I shrug. "You never have a real reason to get shitfaced, Duff. But you do it anyways."

That makes Axl laugh. _Hard_. "I've never heard her have such an attitude before!"

_There's no way anyone will know that I got drunk over you, Axl. Trying to get_ you _out of my head. I'll never admit it. Not out loud._

"She's being rude," Duff tells Axl.

I look back and forth from the two of them looking at each other, shaking their heads. Axl still laughs.

"You know I'm right."

"You are right," Michelle agrees.

"Honey, I'm twenty-three. You don't need to worry about me and my business when you still have algebra homework to do." Duff gives me a smug look, crossing his arms over his chest.

I hear Axl's snickering, but decide not to look at him because if I do, there might be physical contact.

"You're such an asshole, you know that?"

"And you're a brat."

I could take more offense to that, but it's been his bad word of choice for me for more than a decade.

"Like that's news to anyone."

"All I'm trying to get across to you, to both of you, is that I care too much."

"We know," Michelle and I say.

"And in my head you both are still seven, and I need to make sure you're not gonna get hit by a car while playing outside. Except now, that car is life. And alcohol. And boys. And-"

"What a great metaphor," I smile.

"It's my job to yell at you. I don't know who else would, you two get away with everything because of me."

"Thank you," Michelle and I say.

I know that he's just worried about me. He doesn't mean any harm. He's just trying to protect me. I start to feel bad for attacking him, honestly. He's only trying to help me learn.

I nearly start to cry when I get up out of my chair, and give him a hug.

"I'm sorry Michael. I'm really mean, I know."

"Oh, Chas."

I feel the deep sigh that leaves him then.

"Don't cry, sweetheart. You've gotta eat something, before all the food gets cold."

"I feel bad!"

"Don't. You're just a kid, and kids make mistakes. I still make mistakes. It's okay. I still love you," He teases. The hand on my hair squeezes my head as he laughs, the other on my upper back.

"I love you too."

"Now sit down, so you can try the pancakes."

"Okay."

"Why can we never get through anything without you being dramatic, Chasity?" Michelle groans.

"I have a lot of feelings. My bad." I side eye her once I sit back down. She'll never get it. She's used to living on the wild side.

Me? Not so much.

But we all already knew that, didn't we?


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Protective!Axl 💧💧💧

"What are you doing here?"

I sound out of breath, but not as much as Axl. He's still trying to get his other denim-clad leg over my windowsill.

"My parents are down the hall!" I try to whisper, but it's pretty much impossible.

Once Axl's completely inside my room, he stands up tall, towering over me in his boots. "I couldn't wait. I need to know what's goin' on."

I stare at him for a second, unable to believe it. His red hair is a mess, and he's still breathing heavy. I pluck off a leaf from his leather jacket, one that was growing on the vines outside my window. "Well, like I said, it's not good. Let me lock the door, first." I pad over to the opposite side of the room, listening for a second.

Last I checked, it was close to eleven, and with tomorrow being a school and work day, everyone should be asleep. But still, I wait. Our house is old, and it took some strength for me to push up the heavy window before Axl nearly fell all the way to the ground a minute ago.

Nothing. Dead silence. The metal of the door handle is cool as I turn the lock slowly, hearing it make a _click._

At the same time, Axl and I both exhale.

"You're crazy, W. Axl Rose."

"I know." He shrugs off his jacket before slinging it over the back of the chair at my vanity, sighing.

When he looks at me, I have to remind myself to keep breathing.

"Were you asleep?"

"Just about," I nod. I thought I was in the middle of my own horror movie when I heard him outside from the safety of my bed. My eyes were just barely beginning to close.

"I'm sorry honey," Axl frowns, as if he's upset with himself. "God, I'm a pain in the ass."

"It's okay. I should've expected this," I yawn. "You're stubborn."

Without another word, I carefully push back my closet door, to where I've hid the pictures.

"What are you getting?"

"The bad news."

I move the shoeboxes away from the corner of the top shelf of my closet, and right away reveal the pictures. I haven't looked at them for twenty-four hours, not since I smuggled them out of the band's apartment and brought them here, to my room.

They feel cool in my hand, heavy. The weight of all the decisions each picture represents is astronomical.

_Almost as much as the jail time Axl could get if these were with someone else._

I watch Axl's eyes survey me, flicking up and down from my face to my hand. The exact moment he understands appears on his face and it makes my heart sink.

"You're kidding me."

"I wish I were, Will. God, I wish I was making it up."

_Just a dream. Something I just thought about too many times, a nightmare conceived by my own nervous brain._ Anything _but real._

My knees hurt as I lower my body to the hardwood floor, spreading out all the photos for Axl to see. 

Quickly, he kneels down beside me, eager to assess the damage.

We both stare down at the gift Dylan's given us, and it's silent for a few minutes.

The stiff picture paper scrapes against the floor as Axl brings it up into his palm for a closer look at the grainy photo. It's the one of us under a streetlight, in front of my house. I can make out Duff's tall, blonde figure beside Michelle near the opposite end of the van, away from Axl and I. We stand together, Axl's face close to mine, one of his hands on my shoulder.

"The night of the-"

"Music video," I finish.

"He followed us back here? All the way to your house?"

I can only nod.

Out of all of them, I can't decide which is the worst.

There's five more of us at the venue, hiding from the band as we made out, just the same as the first photo I found in my locker. I count two of Axl climbing up to my window, which must've been taken from across the street, on the opposite side my backyard the night my parents went out.

Axl points to one that's extremely blurry, like it was taken while in motion. Axl and I, on my bed, visible through my window. Except we just look like we're blended together, a blur of color that's supposed to be me straddling Axl.

"He fucking climbed a tree," Axl looks at me incredulously, as if he can't believe it.

"Makes me wonder what else he's seen. Sometimes I'm in a rush and forget to shut my curtains, Axl." I can't hide my panic from my voice, how sick I feel. 

Axl's fingertips brush over ones of me, alone. "When was this?"

"Prom shopping. At the mall, near downtown."

I'm smiling in one, carrying the heavy bag I had that contained my dress for the dance. I can remember almost that exact moment.

"I don't know how I didn't see him," I tell Axl genuinely.

We go quiet again. I don't know what else to say.

When I look over at Axl, his face is still in disbelief, even when he meets my eyes.

"You're being stalked."

That word is dark. Terrifying. Something I've only heard on the news before my father changes the channel. It sound like it belongs to one of his court cases. A situation many women have found themselves in, with ex-lovers or even complete strangers. A horrible crime based around intense, dangerous fixation and obsession. A nightmare.

I don't want to believe it. "No."

"He doesn't just want you to go on a date, Chas. He's totally consumed, _obsessed_. He's fucking sick," Axl whispers.

I can't help but move closer to him till I feel his warmth, as if he'll make me feel less scared. "He wasn't at school today. I looked everywhere. No one's seen him since Saturday night at the party. No one spoke to me about anything to do with him."

"Doesn't mean he's not out there right now, for God's sake." Axl shakes his head, burying his head in his hands for a second.

I know he's right. Today doesn't mean anything. He just probably can't show up because of how badly Axl and Duff messed him up.

"What do we do?"

I search Axl's face for anything, something.

_My first real crush, and it bites me in the ass like this. Just my luck._

"I'm scared."

I have yet to say that out loud before, in any context related to Dylan. But it's the truth.

He scares the shit out of me. He has since the first day he tried to ask me out. And now, it's gotten so much worse than that. The snowball is a mountain now, and I feel trapped at the top. I feel stuck. Like I don't know what to do.

I can't tell my parents, or my school. If I did, that would mean telling about what Axl and I have done. Surrendering the photos.

I can't tell Michelle, or Duff, because they don't know either. Duff would actually crucify Axl. And Michelle. . . I don't know what she'd do.

Once again, this is Axl and I's problem to solve on our own.

"Don't be scared, Chasity."

Axl's hands find one of mine before taking it between both of his. He presses a kiss to my hand, as if he's trying to soothe my nerves.

"I'm so scared of him. I'm so scared of what he could do to you. Axl, your whole career. . . Your whole _life_. Gone, because of these," I use my free hand to gesture to the ground. "It's my fault. I got you involved, it was all my idea-"

"Chas, I made my own decisions. Don't you go blaming yourself, honey. Not for anything," Axl says as he squeezes my hand. "And I'm gonna burn these. They won't be nothin' but dust by tomorrow. He's too much of a pussy to go to the cops anyway. He'd have too much of his own explaining to do."

I just nod, trying to repeat his words over and over. To let myself take what he's said into my mind, let it clear away my frazzled state. I trust Axl.

"I'm not gonna let anything happen, Chasity."

"I know." 


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SO hot and SO sad! Gear up for this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visual for this chapter is up on my tumblr @axlnchas! Search in my tags for "chapter 23"

The first hints of summer are appearing in California.

Michelle and I feel the heat as we step out into the recording studio parking lot, waiting for Duff to pull his car around.

We insisted on just walking to where it's parked a block away, but he refused.

_"Just wait for me, girls. No sense in makin' you walk, I'd feel rude."_

What a good guy he is.

"Fuck, it's hot!" Michelle groans as she piles her hair onto the top of her head, holding it away from her neck.

"I told you to wear something else."

My skirt was the perfect choice for today, and as soon as I saw Michelle walk out of her house this morning in jeans and a cropped sweater top, I tried to talk some sense into her.

"Yeah, but this is cute," She says as she looks at me. "You look nice, too. Nicer than usual."

_It's not for Axl. It really isn't. I didn't wear this skirt today, the white one with the mini roses all over it because I thought he'd like it. I didn't consider if he'd like the taste of my lipgloss when I put it on. I didn't wear a push-up bra instead of my usual unlined ones, hoping he'd stare at me just a little longer._

_No way._

"Oh, please." I roll my eyes. "What a nice back-handed compliment."

"Well I'm just saying! Your tits look huge-"

"Michelle!"

"I just don't understand! All we've done today is sit inside a dark recording studio."

"Maybe I just got bored of the same old outfits."

"You tell me."

"What's it to you?"

"I don't know. _You tell me,_ Chas _."_

It's right now, as she stares me down, that the gears in my brain start to move a million miles a minute.

_Could she? No way! Maybe. . ._

Michelle might very well be onto me.

Onto Axl and I.

_Probably not. The only interaction we've really had today has been about the record. I didn't even give him a hug today. He only called me sweetheart when he first showed up, late. I've been trying not to stare at him. I thought I was doing a pretty good job not drooling over him, as he sang and talked about the songs. Really good, for not having seen him since Monday, when he showed up outside my window completely unexpected._

_No. There's no way she knows anything._

"I did tell you, Michelle. Now let me and my tits be!"

"Hey! Do take that as a compliment. So far my birth control has given me _nothing_ , meanwhile you just already have _everything_."

Frantically, I look around, making sure no one's around to hear her.

"There's no way you just said that right now-"

"Oh, loosen up! I said what I said. If we can talk about it in my room, we can talk about it here. No one's even around! Axl's still finishing up."

"He could walk out any second!"

"Yeah, and so what? I don't care what he thinks. Do you?"

I almost start to nervous sweat at that. "No. Why would I?"

"I don't know. _You tell me."_

"For God's sake, I don't care what Axl thinks-"

It's as if we've summoned him, because behind Michelle, through the glass door, I see him just about to walk out, moving a hand through his hair as he does.

The sound of Axl pushing open the door makes Michelle's jaw clamp shut, effectively ensuring she doesn't say anything back to me.

"You're still waitin'?"

When Michelle pinches my arm with her long nails, I can't help but let out a little yelp. It takes all my self control not to slap her.

"Yeah, Michael walks slow," Michelle smiles, her fingers trying to find my arm again.

I swat her away, attempting to look normal, but I can see the laugh on Axl's lips.

"He shouldn't be much longer," I say.

"Chas and I were just talking about how it's so upsetting that-"

"Upsetting that the label wants to still argue about the album cover. We just can't believe it!" I say loudly, silencing Michelle from blurting out something mortifying.

Axl sighs, nodding. "It's pretty fuckin' stupid. We've already explained it a million times, I think we're just gonna have to draw somethin' up, maybe save the artwork for the record sleeve."

Before either of us can say a reply, Duff's van pulls up.

"Let's go! Are we still stopping so you can get your stupid earrings, Michelle?"

All day, Michelle's been asking Duff to take her to the band's apartment because she apparently left her diamond earrings in the bathroom on prom night. She thinks that unless she goes to pick them up today, she won't ever get them back. It's been exhausting to hear.

"Yep! But Chas is gonna ride with Axl, she has to get home like, _now_ because we had Chem homework she forgot to finish, right Chas?"

I try to keep my eyes from bulging out of my skull as I look at her, attempting to figure out just what the fuck she's talking about.

_We took our Chemistry exam yesterday. The class is over. Forever._

Oh, fuck. She totally _knows._

But why would she say that?

I don't know, but Duff is still looking at me for my answer.

"Yeah," I nod.

"Did you ask Axl? What if he's got stuff to do?"

"It's fine, Duff. I'll take her," Axl assures.

"Thanks, man. Do your homework next time, Chas."

"Okay dad!"

I can practically hear Duff's eye roll.

"Bye Chas!" Michelle gives me a tight hug.

"Bye Michelle." I can't hide all the bewilderment from my voice as I talk, still hugging her back.

"Have fun with your _homework,"_ She whispers in my ear, so quiet I hardly catch it.

With that, she heads for the van, and Duff says he loves me before they drive off.

I can feel my heartbeat in my entire body once I realize Axl and I are completely alone in this parking lot now, the sun going down.

"What was that about?" He laughs, grinning.

I can't find the words for a second. "I don't even know."

_Michelle_ so _knows. She knows, and yet, she threw Axl and I together like this, all according to her own will._

"Well my car's far, too."

Axl and I get to walking, and I still don't know what to say. I'm not prepared for this. My mind is just. . . Reeling.

"How are you, Chassy?"

Just barely, I feel his hand brush against mine as we walk along the sidewalk, passing a streetlight that turns on.

"Um, I'm great. How are you?"

The thing is, is that he keeps doing it. Twice, a third time. Every step, and neither of us do anything about it.

"I'm great too." Axl looks at me, smiling.

It's infectious.

"You um, you did really good today. The album is gonna sound so cool."

I try not to laugh and smile as much as I do, thinking about anything but how his hand is still meeting my own. It doesn't work.

"You're too sweet to me, honey. The album is gonna sound so cool 'cause you help me with it all the time. Like sacrificing your Saturday's to sit in the studio."

I spot Axl's car just a few footsteps ahead, parked beside the curb.

"It's a pleasure," I say genuinely.

Axl's keys jingle as he unlocks the passenger side door before opening it, and gesturing for me to get in.

I thank him as I do, my hands spreading my skirt to my legs as I sit on the leather. Axl walks over to the driver's side. Once he slides in behind the wheel and shuts the door, it only takes a second for me to be able to recognize the now familiar scent of him, the exact one from his room. From his bed.

"I'm sorry I never got to say thank you for sleeping on my floor Monday. I can't imagine how badly that messed up your back."

Axl laughs as he pulls onto the road, heading for the stoplight.

"Oh, don't thank me. It was fun! I'm glad I could stay with you, keep you company."

Just for a second, his hand comes down onto mine in my lap, squeezing. When I blink, it's back on the wheel, his touch lingering on my skin.

_Oh. My. God._

"Did you ever uhm, burn the pictures?"

When he woke me up that morning, he put the pictures in his jacket before saying goodbye.

"Uh-huh. And you haven't seen Dylan?"

I shake my head. "No. Not since the party. No one has."

Now that the shock of everything has worn away, and Axl has gotten rid of the worse part of it all, I feel at ease about the situation. For now, at least. For tonight. _As long as I'm with Axl._

"Good. He took the hint that no one messes with you," Axl teases. The second the car slows completely at a stop, his fingers find their way to my hair, brushing it away from my shoulder. "Not on my watch, honey."

When the light turns green, they go back to the steering wheel, his attention back on the road, despite how badly I still want it on me.

_Why is he doing this to me? Why is everybody doing this to me today? Why did Michelle say that? Why is Duff so gullible? Why is Axl so unbelievably hot?_

For a while, we just drive. The radio plays, and I try to distract myself by looking at all the streets we pass by. How pretty everything is at this time of night, just like Axl.

I try not to look at his hands, one in his lap, the other on the wheel, at twelve o'clock. I try not to think about asking him to kiss me. I try not to think about how I'd like to see his hands on my thighs, maybe underneath my skirt. I try not to think about him French kissing me, how good it felt when he did it that afternoon I got my first hickey. I try not to think about how I wouldn't mind if he slept over again, only actually in my bed.

I try so hard not to think about him, but I can't help it. Especially not when he looks at me.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," I tell him.

I feel brave as I make eye contact with him, not budging. Even when he cracks a smile, I don't falter.

"You're such a little liar! Oh my God, I wish you could see your face. Those big blue eyes look so upset, Chas."

I frown at him, wishing he'd stop reading into me. "I am _not_ lying!" I raise my voice over the Debbie Gibson song playing on the radio. "I'm just sitting here, Axl."

"You're thinkin' about somethin', at the very least! You get this look when you're thinking. Spill."

That takes me right back to what Michelle said.

_"I see how you zone out all the time. You're thinking about sex. But with who, is what I'm wondering."_

It's insane to me that she probably knows the answer to that now.

And she did this to me. Made him take me home. All alone. _Oh my god._

"I'm not thinking about anything. Nothing in particular." I shift in my seat, my hands spreading over the fabric of my skirt. I can't look at him. Not when I really am a liar.

"Why are you nervous, honey?" Axl's hand finds its way to my thigh again, pinning mine underneath it on my leg. It doesn't leave this time.

I stare, practically mesmerized. His hand is huge, really. It wraps around nearly half my leg, my hand completely hidden by his.

"I'm not nervous. I just keep thinking about how badly I want you to kiss me, Axl."

Without thinking, I sit up on the leather, car still moving down the road. I press a kiss to his cheek, just beside his lips. My hand holds onto his, the one that was just in my lap, as I kiss him on the lips this time.

When the car swerves a little, I don't even care. Not even when I hear the station wagon behind us honk their horn.

"Shit, Chas-Hang on. Lemme at least pull over."

"Hurry up. I can't wait any longer. All day I've wanted to kiss you."

The words startle me as they leave my mouth, rushed and sounding pretty desperate. But I just can't give a fuck.

I'm practically in Axl's lap the second the Camaro pulls onto a quiet, dark residential street. Huge oak trees line the road, their shade keeping out the orange color of the sunset. No people are outside their houses, and no one walks on the sidewalk. Dylan certainly isn't around to spy on us, no one is.

I can't help but wear a shit-eating grin as I swing my leg over Axl's, hanging onto his shoulders. My skirt rides up the more I widen my legs, trying to get as close to him as possible. I take Axl's hands from his sides, placing them on my own waist.

"Jesus Chas," Axl breathes, as if he's at a loss for words.

"Just kiss me. Please."

I find myself completely slack against Axl as his lips move on mine, back arched. It all feels so good. My hands running through his hair, his hands on me, his tongue.

I do nothing to stop him when his hands come up under my skirt, treading up my legs. It's like heaven, all the thoughts I had earlier being totally fulfilled.

The second his fingers pull the band of my underwear and then let go, I nearly grind myself against him. The sting on my skin makes a whine leave me as I pull back to look at him.

"Ow!"

Axl throws his head back laughing, eyes squeezed shut, his now sparkly lips curved into a smile.

Even though he's making fun of me, his hands still stay under my clothes, the outline of them visible over the floral print of my skirt.

Deep laughs still leave him as he raises his head back up, some of his red hair in his eyes. "Let's see, are these those polka-dot panties?"

I can't move my hands to my skirt fast enough as Axl's hands raise it up, revealing everything from my waist down.

"Stop it!" _Another lie. He could undress me completely and I wouldn't care. . ._

He laughs even more, probably because he finds that no, these ones today are a pale pink, and pretty skimpy.

It makes me feel dirty, letting him look at my panties here in his lap, in his car, in the front seat, where anybody could see what he's doing. I feel my face get warm, my heart beating fast.

"These are better than the polka dot ones," Axl says, voice raspy, sounding as if he's discussing something entirely different from the actual manner at hand.

On impulse, I press my middle down harder onto him. The second my hips start to drag, Axl's dropping my skirt, his hands clenching onto my body. He gasps as he holds me completely still.

"Chas! Don't do that!"

"Don't stare at my panties then!"

"I like teasin' you."

"Likewise."

I think we both lose track of time as we go back to kissing. I keep my eyes shut, knowing that if I were to open them, I'd find that the car is probably just as dark now.

Axl is just so addictive. Maybe I'm biased because of my flaming crush and lack of experience, but I don't know if anything can get better than this. Than kissing him, being this close to him.

_It sucks that this won't last. It can't ever last. He's still twenty-five when I kiss him. He's still Axl Rose. None of this should exist, not one bit of what's happening right now. God, it's so bad. I should feel dirty for this, I should feel horrible. My mother's expecting me home, yet I'm here, on the side of the road, letting a grown man kiss me._

_I should be ashamed of myself. I shouldn't do this to him, or to me ever again. Just because the pictures are gone doesn't mean that somebody still couldn't find out, and turn Axl in._

_This has to be the last time._

All of the sudden, I decide that this next kiss I press to his lips is the last. I try to take a mental snapshot of how this feels, all of it. I try my hardest to remember, to hold onto this second as much as possible. Axl feels me falter, I know it. I play it off, taking a deep breath in.

Then I get off of him without a word, tears suddenly threatening to spill over, as if they've come out of nowhere. I blink rapidly as I fix my skirt before sitting back down beside him, at a healthy distance. And I was right-the sky is dark now.

"Did I do something wrong?"

I suck in air, hiding my face behind my hair. I pray my voice doesn't give me away. "No. Just take me home, please."

It does. It totally gives me away. _Damn it._

"Honey, please-"

"Just take me home, Axl. Please."

The next couple seconds are agonizing as Axl turns the key in the ignition, and shifts the car into drive before turning back onto the road.

It turns out we weren't far from my house, because things become more and more familiar every second we spend driving. I try to focus on that, and not on the deafening silence between us.

Already, I feel so empty. Like I left a piece of myself back with him, even though he's only inches away. But I know that this is as close as we'll be from now on. I won't be getting that little bit of myself back. Never again.

It's his to keep now, even though he doesn't feel the weight of it. To hold as he releases the record that I know will make him famous. His to carry on every world tour, and while making all the music to come. His, while meeting every girl that could potentially be the right person for him.

All my strength is used up as I try to not burst into tears right here, just down the street from my house. I practically shake with it, my whole being feeling devastated as it sinks in that that truly was the last time I'll allow anything like that to happen with him.

_To protect him._

I'm ready to get out of his car as fast as possible when we pull up in front of my house, the street quiet. The lit front windows tell me my family is inside, my father most likely home now.

It's painful as Axl grabs my hand just before I'm about to slip out of the Camaro. "Chas-"

"I can't, I have to go. Please don't worry about it, any of it, Axl. Thanks for the ride."

I pull my hand away from his, out of his grasp while opening up the car door. After shutting it, I know his eyes are on me as I walk across the front of the black Camaro, onto the sidewalk.

Normally, I admire how beautiful the gardenias are in our front yard, how the birds chirp, even at night. But everything seems dull as I walk up to the house. All I hear is the low rumble of Axl's car, wishing he'd drive off already.

Somehow, I manage to put a smile on my face before I step inside the house, not once looking back to where I know Axl waits.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys come over to visit and Axl is well. . . Absolutely perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visual for this is up on tumblr!

"Why am I here?"

"Because," Michelle responds, clearly annoyed with me. She rolls her eyes, sighing.

When she goes right back to watching MTV, I shake my head at her, even though I know she doesn't care.

I've repeated my question about five times now, and I still have yet to get an actual answer out of her.

When she busted into my room half an hour ago we practically had a screaming match. 'I have a headache, I just told you that on the phone,' I said to her. She said 'Bullshit! All you've been doing all week is sitting here at home. Come hang out with me. My mom won't be home for hours.' And I didn't have a choice, no matter how much I continued to protest. My mother didn't advocate for me as we barreled down the stairs, Michelle behind me to make sure I didn't try to run right back up them. In fact, Mom cheered Michelle on, happy that I had been uprooted from my hibernation.

Besides school, I've hardly left the house for the past week. I can't remember the last time we've just hung out like this, sitting on the couch in her living room. It's odd, because we've hardly spoken since two Saturday's ago at the studio.

It wasn't long after that when the reality of what I had vowed to myself that same night set in.

_"This is the last time I'll ever kiss him."_

It's funny how we can make promises or say things, and then not feel the true weight of them. Words are empty unless actions follow, but luckily, I like to honor my word. And God, it hurts.

The tears ran out quickly, my body physically unable to release any more feelings on the matter by the end of that first week without Axl in my life. The last time I saw any members of the band was again, that Saturday at the studio. Avoiding them hasn't been easy, but I've managed to pull it off with claims of having to study over helping them with the album. Duff's been sad about it, I know from the way he's sounded on the phone, but I don't know how else to go about this.

Go and torture myself by being around Axl, and potentially get into an even deeper situation where I could mess up his future? Or keep my distance until I can get over him?

The latter sounds much more reasonable, a mature decision that's been painful to actually execute, but necessary.

It's So Easy is already out as a single off of Appetite For Destruction. Slash has briefly told me the numbers have been bad, but I refuse to believe it'll maintain that way. I give it only a matter of time before the record charts, ends up on television, the tour dates that I'm sure to come will sell out, and Guns N' Roses becomes more famous than any of them can comprehend.

_The universe never intended for us to be together. If we had met differently, if I were older, if Duff wasn't like a brother. . . Maybe. But that's not how this played out. It's all for a reason._

The more I think, the more I wish Michelle would let me go back home. Impulsively, I grab the T.V. remote between us and quickly hit the power button.

Michelle's sitting up and scowling before the screen even goes black. "What did you do that for?"

"I want you to be honest with me," I tell her, my tone serious. "You didn't just drag me over here to watch Rick Springfield, I know it. You think sitting around like this is boring. So tell me, no bullshit. What's going on?"

She's messing with her hair now, the blonde waves weaved between her fingers. Based on this alone, her not looking at me, I know she's had a trick up her sleeve this entire time.

"You have to promise not to run out of the house."

Immediately, confusion floods me, my face contorting with it. Before I can ask her what that's supposed to mean, the sight outside the window we're situated in front of makes the words catch in my throat.

A beat-up van comes to a stop beside the curb, right outside the house. I don't even need visual confirmation to know exactly who it is.

"What the fuck?!"

Michelle jumps up off the couch at the same instant that I do, her arms out in front of her, up in defense. "I told you, don't freak out!"

I don't need her to even say it in plain words. I know, as of right now, that she knows what's happened between Axl and I. Maybe not specifics, maybe hardly anything, but this confirms to me that she knows _something._ But I can't even begin to worry about that right now, not when see Axl get out the van.

I don't have words. My legs feel weak and my heart is beating so fast, I can't keep up with it. The panic must be evident on my face, because Michelle is trying to calm me down.

"It's fine, you're fine! They're just here to hang out! They have demos of nearly all the songs, they just want us to listen and see what we think." Her words are rushed, and even though she's trying to sound calm, it doesn't work.

"Look at me," I gesture to my body. I haven't actually done my hair in days, it's frizzy from the warm weather and my jean shorts and baggy t-shirt are hardly a fashion statement. "Do you think this is fine?"

"Chas, you look like yourself. You look fine!"

"Oh, thanks for the reassurance! You've really done it now, Michelle. I don't know if I can forgive you for this-"

"Oh, shut up. You'll get over it," She huffs as she pulls me along. I can see the guys all walking up the driveway through the warped glass of the front door, their cigarettes still lit.

_I can't believe this. This was a trap, this entire time. Oh my God._

Michelle pulls back the door, and that's when Guns N' Roses brings their chaos into the house.

Duff passes through the threshold first, and completely bipasses Michelle as he heads for me. "Chas! Where've you been, honey?!"

"Studying." My voice is muffled by his jacket as he squeezes me tightly to his chest, and I can smell the booze on him. He might not be drunk, but he's drank today. "I told you, remember?"

"Shit, I don't think I remembered over how much I missed you," He jokes. "I'm proud of you, though. Just a few more weeks till you're out of there, right?"

"Less than a week, a few days," I correct him as he releases me. Michelle and I got our cap and gowns yesterday. I already buried it in my closet, unable to stomach the reality that we'll be done with school forever so soon.

"You goin' to college, Chas?" Steve appears behind Duff's shoulder, his fluffy hair pretty much the only thing that's visible.

"No," I shake my head. "It's not the plan, anyway." I don't know what I'm doing at all. But neither does Michelle, so I don't feel as bad about it. 

"Much to my dismay," Duff says to Steve.

"She's smart, she'll figure it out," Slash nods to me, smiling as he passes by with two six packs of beer in his arms. He continues right on, heading for the kitchen.

"Slash is right," I say looking at Duff.

All he does is roll his eyes, his attention now going to Michelle. Immediately, he starts asking her about college.

"Hey, Chas."

"Hi, Izzy."

The cap he always wears is pulled low over his face, his hair falling into his eyes. Even so, I can still see a small smile. "I did what you said, to slow down the chorus on Mr. Brownstone, and it sounds a lot better. Thanks, hon."

"I'm glad I could help," I say. It makes me wonder if everybody else took my feedback into consideration. At least Izzy did. He's good like that.

"Leave her alone, Iz."

Axl's deep voice is full of mock-anger, but even still, it makes Izzy turn to look at him.

"Don't get your panties in a twist," Izzy mutters, playfully punching Axl's arm as he stalks off, probably to go find Slash with the beer.

That leaves Axl and I standing here in the living room alone, him, leaning against the wall a little ways away, and me, practically cowering under his gaze.

"Hi, Chas."

"Hi."

As I take him in, everything from his head to the boots on his feet, I wish I could properly express how good he looks. I can tell that he hasn't had sleepless nights like me. His face is bright, greenish blue eyes crinkled from his smile. There's no earrings in his ears today, just a simple cross around his neck. The plain white t-shirt he wears is loose and tucked into his jeans, the sleeves covering the tattoos that I know are on his biceps. And his hair. I missed the red. I don't know anybody else with the same color as him. It's a sight for sore eyes-his entire being is.

"Chas, c'mere!" Duff calls loudly, probably from the kitchen.

I muster up the courage to simply look at Axl briefly as I pass by him, his face meeting my own as I do. Even though his demeanor doesn't seem to hold any animosity, I can't help but worry about what he's thinking, especially with how I left our last encounter.

I walk into the kitchen, Axl following behind me, to see the band making themselves at home. Izzy sits at the dining room table, his head propped up on his fist. Steven and Slash have already opened the beers, and Duff is busy telling Michelle that he refuses to let her have one. They've apparently brought their own cassette player, it sits across from Izzy along with a stack of tapes labeled as familar titles, songs from Appetite. 

"Can we play it already?" Steve asks out loud as soon as he sees Axl and I. "I wanna hear what they've got to say, especially about Axl's circus music!"

"His _what?"_ Michelle questions, laughing.

"He wrote this frilly ass song, it's ridiculous," Slash laughs, bringing his beer can up to his lips. "The whole thing is built around that warm-up riff I play."

I know exactly what he's talking about, and dare I say it, but it intrigues me. Axl's never written a bad song. At least in my opinion, but I'm extremely biased.

"Let's hear that one later. First, it's 'Welcome To The Jungle'!" Michelle points at Izzy, who's already putting a tape into the player.

"I knew you'd say that!" Izzy points back at her, just before he hits play.

The opening to "Welcome To The Jungle" plays, and I immediately notice a difference. It sounds complete, not like the raw studio cuts I've heard previously. I take a seat near Izzy, folding my legs criss-cross while I listen to the music.

By the end of Jungle, Michelle and I are looking at one another, nodding our heads.

"It's done," I say.

"Agreed."

Next comes "Out To Get Me", a song I've only heard previously twice in the studio, but dissected into parts. Never the full version, with each facet layered.

I can't help but look at Axl once it gets to where he's screaming during the chorus. When I see that he's been looking at me, my eyes snap away immediately, landing on the wall opposite him. _Jesus Christ._

"How angry were you when you wrote this?" Michelle wonders for anyone who'll answer. 

"Totally pissed," Axl laughs.

_Clearly,_ I think. But it's good. The rage in the lyrics and the guitars together are wonderful.

Once this song finishes, we listen to "It's So Easy" for less than a minute before Michelle says that there's no point, we already know it's perfect. I simply nod, not needing to hear anymore of it.

_Not wanting to, because being in Axl's presence alone is overwhelming. Hearing him sing, too? I don't know how much longer I can keep myself together._

Again, I feel Axl's eyes on me. It makes my palms itch and I almost wish I could get out of this somehow. It's not that I don't like it, because I do-And that's exactly what's bad about it.

"You're Crazy", "Paradise City", and "Mr. Brownstone" go by without any critiques from Michelle and I, except for when I tell Izzy that it sounds great, to which he just smiles. They've all already had at least two beers each now, except for Axl, who hasn't had anything.

By this point, I've lost track of how many times I've caught Axl eyeing me. My whole body feels hot, both from my embarrassment and the tension I can feel from across the room. _Why can't he just stop it? He knows what he's doing. He's not stupid._

I don't realize that Izzy has switched out the tapes until I hear guitar chords I've only ever encountered during rehearsal from Slash.

"What's this called?" Michelle shouts over the riff as it repeats, Steven's drums coming in now.

I watch Axl respond while he looks right at me. "'Sweet Child O' Mine.'"

The rest of the band keeps going on about their opinions on it, how much they think it's not Guns N' Roses worthy. But I can't care, not while I'm too busy trying to pay attention to the lyrics.

_"Now and then, when I see her face, she takes me away to that special place/And if I stared too long, I'd probably break down and cry/Woah-oh-oh, Sweet Child O' Mine/Woah-oh-oh-oh, sweet love o' mine. . ."_

_"She's got eyes of the bluest skies and if they thought of rain/I'd hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain/Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place where as a child I'd hide. . . Sweet Child O' Mine. . . Sweet love o' mine."_

I try to not let my jaw drop, my teeth clenched together practically for dear life.

_Oh my God._

The guitar solo makes me send up a silent prayer, grateful for Axl's serenading to be over, at least for now. I honestly stop breathing, afraid that if I let my muscles relax I'll just start crying. Right here, in front of everyone. In front of Axl.

_"Woah-oh-oh, Sweet Child Of Mine/Woah-oh-oh-oh, sweet love of mine."_

He fills the room once again, asking about where we go now.

_I don't know, Axl. I don't know._

Before the song can end, I'm out of my chair and walking from the kitchen. I say I'm going to the bathroom, that I'll be right back, that they don't need to stop the music.

I can't seem to move quickly enough for my own liking as I take big strides through the living room, Axl's voice following me. He's screaming now, practically at me.

" _Where do we go/Where do we go now. . ."_

The first tears in a long time fall before I can even shut Michelle's guest bathroom door all the way.

Even in here, more than halfway across the house, I can still hear his voice faintly.

_Damn you, Axl._

I messily wipe at my face, trying to get myself to stop. I don't worry that if I'm gone for too long, one of them will come looking for me. They're too drunk.

My hands shakily turn on the sink, hoping it blocks my sobs from leaving the room.

_Axl wrote a song about me. He's going to put it on the record. I'm going to have to live with this fact for the rest of my life._

He already has a piece of my heart. He's been carrying it with him for weeks, and he doesn't even know it. Now, he's taking away any hopes of me being able to listen to him sing without hearing him call me his Sweet Child, no matter the song.

Those lyrics echo through my head, the same way they probably will for days after this. Even over my crying, I hear him clearly. Except it's not from the song. It's outside the door.

"Chas, can I come in?"

I slam my hand down on the handle to the sink, shutting the water off. "Go away, Axl."

I wish I could muster up something more angry, words that would scare him away. It's hard to be mad at him, even now.

"See, that's the thing. I can't."

There's nothing I can do to stop him as he opens the door, not waiting, or asking for permission anymore. I'm the stupid one who didn't even lock it. 

The silence settles in after he's shut the door softly behind himself, actually taking a second to lock it. The two of us are now closer than we've been all day in the small confines of Michelle's guest bathroom.

I can't bring myself to look at him, not while I continue to cry, no matter how much I wish I could stop.

"How-how could you do this to me?"

He's blurry from my tears, but if I could guess, I'd say that he's frowning at me.

"Chas, don't cry, please. I thought you'd like it, honey-"

"I love it," I whisper. "That's the problem." Now I can't stop myself. The words tumble out, before I can even process what I'm about to speak into existence. "I like you so much, Axl. I've got such a huge crush on you, and I shouldn't. It's gotten so out of control."

_Oh. My. God._

My eyes are squeezed shut as I feel Axl's hands cup my face between them, his rings warm against my cheeks. I open them the second his forehead rests gently against mine. A fresh wave of tears roll down, making the specks of emerald in Axl's eyes clear as I stare into them.

"Do you know how _absolutel_ y," He pauses, pressing a kiss to my cheek. " _Completely_ ," Another kiss now, to my other cheek, " _Fully_ taken I am with you? I've got a big, fat crush on you, Chasity Grace. Even before I first kissed you, months ago. "

His words make me cry harder than ever. God, I can't even catch my breath. This feels as if it's some outer body experience, like I'm not even awake. As if it's something created by my imagination. Something I never thought would happen, no matter how hard I longed for it.

Only Axl's touch has me grounded to Earth, the way his thumbs attempt to get rid of my tears when he isn't leaving kisses near my lips.

"So don't you cry-y tonight," Axl chuckles as he speaks lowly, in sing-song. "Don't cry, baby."

He's never called me that before. Not ever. It makes my lower lip quiver and my heart feel like mush.

"I just-I _really_ didn't know-" I can hardly form a coherent sentence.

Axl kisses me, and we stay like this for I don't know how long, his lips moving against mine. I missed it-him-so badly. For a moment, it's like that bit of me he had clicks back into place, existing between the two of us, stable again. But I realize that it can't be kept that way. 

_Just because he feels the same doesn't mean this can work, that anything can happen. It's still not possible, no matter how much I wish it could be. It never will._ _There's too much in the way._

Axl pulls back once he realizes that I've begun to cry again. His brows are knit together in concern as he looks down at me, his height casting a shadow over my face.

"We can't, Axl. Nothing can happen," I practically whine, my sadness oozing into my words. "Michael would kill you, along with my parents. He'd be so upset, so angry. And the record is going to take off soon, and you'll be on tours for the next ten years. I _know_ it. There's no room for me. I haven't even graduated yet," I explain. _All the things I wish I could change or control._ _. ._

Axl shakes his head at me, as if to say I'm wrong.

"I just don't want to get hurt," I confess, hugging him tightly. "It's been so agonizing, ever since I got even the smallest of feelings for you. I've known all this time that it won't work-"

"We'll make it work," Axl counters softly. "We can, Chas."

"I'm not so sure," I admit.

_If this were to end with Axl's career being ripped to shreds, me losing my parents, or Axl facing the law. . . I don't know what I would do._

He doesn't say anything, not for a few seconds.

"I'll wait for you, Chas. Until you're ready, hm?" He hums, the sound vibrating through his chest beside his heartbeat. "I'll wait for you, no matter how long. Through all those supposed tours you think I'll be on, and whatever else you've got scheduled for me. I'll be real respectful about it. I'll leave you be, as long as you want me to."

Hearing him say that makes me upset. I look him in the face, trying to decipher just why he'd say something like that. _Why should he stick around and wait for me to get comfortable with sneaking behind everybody's backs? With practically messing up his life? Why should he go on the road and be tied down to some girl back home? Why should he involve himself with me at all?_

"I'm not worth the trouble, Axl."

"It's no trouble at all, Chas. I'm head over heels. I'm _attached_. I don't get attached to hardly anybody, you know that," He nods. "It's the band and you for me, honey. That's it."

During the same instant that my heart swells at his words, it also contracts from pain.

_There's still so many obstacles. . ._

"Would you be mad at me if I never. . . I never-"

"No, I could never be mad at you. I just want you to do whatever feels right to you in your heart, Chas. If you decide that I'm not, I'll understand. I'll always be here for you as a friend."

I give up, totally defeated by what he says and the sincerity on his face. As if he's pleading with me to hear him, to understand that it's alright.

"Okay."

"Okay," Axl confirms. He lets go of my hands after giving a kiss to each, like he's sealing his promise. "Now I better get back, in case a drunk Duff busts through the door. Are you gonna stop cryin' over me?"

I tell Axl yes, and let him smooth down my hair and fret over me as he asks me another ten times if I'm going to be alright. It feels as if the boulders that were sitting on my chest have been pushed off.

"Alright, honey. I'm here, you know that."

"Yes, Axl."

Our farewell consists of a shared smile, one that says everything we didn't get to, all this time.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls graduate and have another girl talk session.

Graduation wasn't what I expected it to be.

Yesterday, Michelle was the only one crying. Our blue gowns were itchy and it was miserable sitting on the football field under the hot sun, baking. The Valedictorian speech was well over five minutes, and I don't remember hardly any of it.

Dylan was a no-show, which has lead everyone to believe he's dropped out or transferred. I don't know which theory I believe.

When we threw our caps up in the air, that was the moment I truly realized that it was all over, all the high school stuff. _What a relief._

We weren't able to get our hands on enough tickets for the whole band to come. Only Duff was there, and all I could hear was him and my father screaming my name as I accepted my diploma and shook my principal's hand. It hurt that the rest of the guys weren't able to attend with my schools strict ticket-only policy, but the band was here all day today, at Michelle and I's joint graduation party.

It's over now though. The whole affair took place in my back yard. It was jam packed with people, all of my extended family and some of Duff and Michelle's here too. All that remains of the party is memories-the decorations and tables and even the bouncy castle my parents got for my little cousins is all gone, either thrown away or packed up. The sun's already gone down, and it's gotten a little chilly out. It doesn't help that the only light in the backyard comes from the porch light, which is at the opposite end of the yard, where Duff is saying goodbye to my parents, Michelle next to him.

Axl and I hug for way too long here in the confines of the dark beside my mother's rose bushes. I can't help but indulge myself, though. It's not like Axl minds.

"You looked so pretty today, Chas," He whispers into my ear, intended for only me to hear.

My hands grip onto the red flannel covering Axl's arms, contouring with his biceps as he holds me tight. My head rests in the crook of his neck, and we're swaying a little, even though there's no music. Just the loud voices of my parents and the McKagan siblings, providing as a distraction for Axl and I, even though they probably don't know it.

"I bet you've just been waiting to tell me that," I tease.

It's made me nervous, him being here today. We've hardly touched or spoken, aside from saying hello and a quick hug once he got here with the band. Nothing dramatic, nothing that could reference the last conversation we had in Michelle's bathroom. But still, I know what my whole family doesn't about him and I.

When he shook my dad's hand earlier, when he was being swept away by all my curious aunts, all I could see in my head was Axl and I in his car.

Despite my worries, I still feel dramatically different from earlier this week. Like I can relax, at least as much as possible when he's still all I can think about. But Axl said he's not going anywhere, that there's no expectations of anything. We've cleared the air. The ball just rests in my court now. _If I even decide to make a move,_ I think.

_I hope I find the courage. We can't be like this forever, dancing around what we both want. Hiding from the light. God, I hope I pull it together. Turning Axl away fully would break me._

"I have," Axl admits. "I wish I could've seen more of you today."

That makes me scoff as I feel my ears get hot immediately, my mind racing at that. "I thought you said you'd be respectful, William Axl Rose."

As we move softly with the breeze, Axl's arms around my waist, he gasps. "Not like that! I didn't-Chas, I didn't mean it like _that_. I meant that I wish we could've spent more time together. Some real PG shit."

I'm laughing quietly now along with him, embarassed by how I was the one who went there. "Well how am I supposed to know?"

"I'm a man of my word," Axl says while meeting my eyes.

Even outside in the dark, he looks beautiful. His hair has been in a low ponytail all day, out of his face. He looks like a Will today, not so much like Axl, the rockstar. He left his leather and jewerly and t-shirts that have "fuck" written across them at home, and ditched them for his button up that covers his tattos and a pair of non-ripped jeans. All of it his way of trying to look like a normal citizen for our party.

"When I make a promise I keep it," Axl nods slightly, his face dipping down a bit closer to mine. He doesn't kiss me though. I know he won't, not until I ask. But especially not here, where we can hear my parents talking about the album with Duff, just yards away.

"Trust me, I know," I reassure.

Although I don't want to, I slowly remove myself from Axl's hold, and he doesn't protest. He knows it's already been too much.

At the same instant that we've completely pulled ourselves apart and put a few steps between us, I can hear footsteps, ones that belong to my parents and Michelle and Duff. The gate that leads to the street is close to where Axl and I have been, and it's where they're heading for now.

"It was so nice to see you, Michael. Your mother and I talk all the time about how much we miss you around." Mom has her arm against Duff's back as she smiles up at him, making him look like a small giant beside her. She's hardly five feet tall.

"Well I know Chas doesn't miss me. She's sick of me!" Duff laughs as he rests a hand on my shoulder. "Her and Michelle have been such a big help with the record, like I was tellin' you. If it wasn't for them, we would've made some pretty stupid choices."

"You're welcome," I smile wide, appreciating him putting in a good word with my mom and dad. I've already told them why Michelle and I have spent tons of time at the studio and practices for months, but I'm sure it matters way more to hear it from somebody else, like Duff.

"Yeah, I know I am," Duff brings Michelle and I in for a hug, each of us getting an arm. I feel his lips peck my forehead after he does the same to Michelle. "I'm proud of you two. You did it!"

"Thank you!" Michelle and I both say together.

His words make my heart hurt. It means a lot to me that he says that, considering his own past.

Duff was such a good student. I remember seeing his report cards with all A's on the fridge when I'd go over while he still lived at home. Everything was so easy to him, it all came so naturally. When he wasn't learning guitar, or bass, or drums, he was babysitting Michelle and I, teaching us how to do our homework. But then he just got sick of it all, I guess. Rock n' roll called more to him than the books, and so he never went back after he ran off to Seattle for three months, doing God knows what. Michelle and I were so sad that entire time he was M.I.A. It was the first time I hadn't seen him for more than a week since I was five years old. Alice was devastated. She was so worried for him once he told everybody that he was dropping out in the sophomore year when he suddenly came back home, unannounced.

And now, Michelle and I have both graduated, and Duff's truly about to make it, even without a formal education. But still, he's one of the smartest people I know.

"I love you, Duff."

"I love you too, Chassy," Duff ruffles my hair once he releases Michelle and I. "And I love you, Michelle," He says. "You're stayin' over, right? I don't gotta walk you across the street?"

"Nope, I'm staying here," She confirms.

We haven't had a sleepover in such a long time, it was overdue.

"Well, we're gonna take off then, right Ax?" Duff looks to Axl, who nods.

"Yep. Bye, Chas," Axl pulls me in for a brief hug that doesn't last anymore than a few seconds. Even though he hardly touches me, I can still feel everything between us, and I can't help but worry if everyone else can too. But then it's over, just like that.

Axl hugs Michelle equally as fast while he tells her he'll see her later. Then, him and Duff are saying bye to my parents before they're walking out of the backyard, to Axl's car. Izzy, Steve, and Slash couldn't stay as long as them today because of their prior engagements at the studio, something to do with their contracts.

When Axl looks back for just a second, it takes all my energy to not act stupid.

"Michael's really grown to be a good guy, huh hon?" My dad says out loud to my mom, taking his hand into hers as they walk ahead of Michelle and I, back up to the house.

"Mhm," Mom agrees. "And that Axl is so kind. I thought Elisa was going to kiss him! She was all over him, all my sisters were."

Beside me, Michelle tries to keep her laughs contained.

My mom isn't wrong-Axl was like a shiny new attraction today. Everybody was practically enthralled by him, wanting to know all about what he does with the band, where he's from, why his voice is so deep. And he was so humble about it all, so patient and friendly with my older aunts as they interrogated him.

_Me too, aunt Elisa. I wanted to kiss him, too._

My parents say goodnight to Michelle and I as we all head up the stairs, telling us that the rest of our cake is still in the fridge if we want some of it later. Michelle and I just say okay as we head for my room.

Shawn and Layla were around today too, but they've been in their rooms ever since my parents released them from the backyard, once their friends and our cousins left.

The house is quiet, everything calm again. But not once Michelle shuts my bedroom door.

"Oh my God, Chas."

"Oh my God what?"

For some reason, I know what's coming. And I've accepted it.

Between planning for graduation and our party, then actually experiencing them both, we've been so busy for the last few days. There's been no time to even think about what we both know that Michelle knows, to whatever extent she actually does know.

_Not anymore. I know she's going to say it. I'd put money on it._

I take in a deep breath as I sit down on my bed, waiting for it.

"What?!" She repeats, gawking at me. "Chas, I'm talking about Axl."

I can't help but smile, proud of myself, even though it was so obvious.

She's pacing now, walking back and forth in front of my closet.

"Holy _fuck_ ," She leans towards me as she whisper-shouts. "I could've cut the sexual tension out there with a knife! It's a wonder I even managed to keep Silvia and Ben _and_ Duff entertained that long, while you were practically fucking him back by the tea roses!"

"We were only hugging," I defend. "You know what, why don't we start at the beginning, from your point of view? What you know," I suggest.

"What I know? Why don't you tell me why there were pictures of you and Axl with your tongues down each other's throats in your bra on prom night?"

I can't believe I didn't realize it sooner. I'm incredibly dumb, honestly. I really am. I should've known that she knew, the second Axl said Michelle was the one to help me take my dress off. _I'm forgetful like that, I guess._

"Chas," She says. "You literally handed them to me after whipping them out, and told me you were sorry."

"I don't even-"

"Remember that? Yeah, I thought so. That's why I didn't say anything. I thought they were fake-I couldn't believe it."

At this point, I can't be surprised, too many out-of-this-world things have happened.

"Well, they're real. I mean, not anymore, Axl got rid of them, but they were."

When she looks at me confused, I launch into the whole story of the inception of Axl and I, with Dylan being the catalyst. I tell her everything, from how Axl and I's first kiss happened, to the showdown at the afterparty, and all about our conversation in Michelle's bathroom just a few days ago. I talk quietly due to my paranoia about anyone else finding out, but I leave no stone overturned. Although it's confusing, Michelle manages to keep up. She's patient through all of it, only nodding, and doesn't give me any looks that could indicate her feelings on it all.

Not until I'm done, at least. My jaw hurts now, and my brain feels fried from recalling nearly all the events of my life as of recently. All the ones I kept from Michelle, who's supposed to be my best friend. I've told her everything my whole life, but this. I can't help but feel guilty about it as I look at her now. _Of course this affects her, too. And I just left her in the dark._

"Thank you for telling me," She says from where she lays flat on her back on the hardwood, her blonde hair spread out around her face.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I really am. I didn't know what you'd say. I thought you'd hate me. It all just happened, my feelings took over, and now here we are."

"Chas, you're allowed to have secrets. I mean, this one's huge. Like, fucking _colossal_. But that's okay. I mean, it's really fucking bad, I won't lie. But I'm no angel. I get it. Things just happen," Michelle says simply, understanding in her tone.

"They do," I nod. "They really do."

"You know what you have to do though, right?"

"Call it off completely. Tell Axl to forget about what we talked about. It's for the greater good, I know. It doesn't feel fair to me at all, but that's what he said, like I told you-"

"Chas, no!" Michelle laughs. "You have to talk to him!"

"And say what, Michelle?! That yes, it's _fine,"_ I hiss, trying to keep my composure at her ridiculous suggestion. "We can completely betray everyone? Everybody who cares about us, what they think doesn't matter?"

"Listen, Axl is hot. Like, c'mon, we've both known it since we met him! God, I just cannot believe you really kiss him!" She practically slaps her hands over her face as she tries to not freak out. "I can't believe this. I couldn't believe the pictures, and now that I have the full story, I can't believe that either. Chas," She sits up on her elbows, looking at me. "Based on what you've told me, and from what I already know about Axl, he's a total catch. And he wants to be with you! Oh my god. You shouldn't even be here with me, you should be out with him, back in his car!"

I can't help it as I laugh and smile like an idiot at what she's suggesting. "Michelle, I cannot! Like I said, I don't even know what's going to happen now. Yes, he wants to be with me, and I want to be with him, but not everybody is going to be as thrilled as you, no matter how much explaining it takes. And I don't know how we'd manage to keep it a secret, I feel like every time I do so much as be around him it's obvious. Plus, we can't forget about the band. They're about to release the album, and go on tours, and not to mention, Michael! I don't want to mess up their friendship, or the band. God, if that happened, I'd never be alright."

Michelle's face is sad. "You can't beat yourself up over it, what has happened, and what hasn't. Don't feel guilty. There's nothing you can do to change what's already happened, and who knows, maybe you're wrong about the future. I don't know what Michael would do, or what would happen with the band, honestly. . ." Her voice trails off as she thinks to herself. "But, I do know that it's worth the chance. You've already been sneaking behind everybody's backs. You'll be eighteen so soon, less than a month now. You'd both be _so_ stupid to try and get over each other, and deny what's already there. You two literally sorted it all out, so why make it more complicated? You and Axl can continue to work it out. And I'm not going to go around telling anybody. Fuck, I'm proud of you! I was wondering when you were gonna get a boyfriend. It's about time you rebelled, Chas."

Michelle laughs at me as I bury my head in a pillow.

_She's right._

"You're such a bad influence, you're actually swaying me right now! How do you do this? How do you even interact with guys?" My curiosity is genuine-this time of my life has been the most stressful by far, all because of my new love life.

"Well for starters, I talk to ones that aren't anything over eighteen."

"Oh, shut up. You just said to not feel guilty about it!"

"It was a joke! Well, kind of. But they're all confusing, trust me. This particular situation is just a fucking mess." She rushes to add on to that once I give her a look. "But both of you are going to be fine. Axl's worth it, and you are too. Why else would he lie to the band, drive for a whole hour all the way to Pasadena from L.A., park down the block, climb up the side of your house, and then risk it all by actually coming in here to spend time with you? Chas, that man wasn't kidding when he said he was 'totally taken by you.' Like holy shit, I can't believe you really thought he was only doing it to entertain himself. He could walk down the street and get any girl he wants, probably."

"Oh my god, stop it, you're making me feel even more stupid! I don't know what I'm doing, okay? None of the advice columns in J-14 say what to do when the guy you like is twenty-five, and the hottest rockstar you've ever seen."

"I hope I find the rockstar boyfriend of my dreams next," She sighs. "I'm serious though-you better not ruin this for yourself. You're going to talk to him, right?"

I don't answer.

_I would_ love _to talk to him. To say that he won't have to do any waiting, because I'm more than ready._

I just don't want to make the wrong decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michelle is in on it now ahh!!! Let me know what your thoughts/feelings/questions are if you have any! Thank you for all the support so far, I already love posting on here! 💓💓


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date night ;)   
> See end notes after for a little blurb about this chapter and it's significance to the Viperous universe/history :) 💕

The neon lights of the Denny's sign shine outside the window beside our booth.

Axl and I's secluded corner that we've claimed is just as calm as the rest of the mostly dead restaurant.

I yawn a little, the fact that it's past midnight not skipping me. My parents think I'm at Michelle's house, asleep beside her. But in actuality, she was the one who helped me pick out my outfit, and locked the front door behind me as I ran to Axl's car.

"Is that all I can get you kids?"

Our waitress is a sweet older lady, one who has pens stuck in her bun and wears bright lipstick. Her nametag reads " _DONNA."_

"Yes," Axl and I both say as we nod at each other from across the shiny red table.

Donna smiles as she sets down the check, and then she's hurrying away.

Old songs play over the speakers, singers like Paul Anka and Ritchie Valens. Somehow, Axl has known every single song. He's been singing them to me ever since we got here, humming in my ear while we were waiting for our table, and now, as he goes searching for his wallet in his pockets.

I finish off my vanilla shake, the only thing left on our table. Donna already carried away our plates that held two double stacks of pancakes, one for each of us.

"You make me look younger," Axl beams, his voice audible over the sound of money moving through his hands as he counts out enough for the check.

"You already look young," I tell him.

He might not appear to be seventeen too, but his whole aura gives off the impression of youth. He's goregous, really. His skin is tanned and alive, and the only faint lines on his face are just under his eyes, from all the smiling he's done in his twenty-five years. His hair is thick and long. I can imagine how it felt last in my hands, silky and soft. And I know that underneath his leather jacket, there's muscles upon muscles, his abdomen chiseled, his strong arms painted with vivid tattoos. He looks exactly as he did when I first met him, when I was fourteen and he was twenty-two. Axl hasn't aged one bit. 

_He's like a God._

My fingers toy with the straw in my glass as I continue to admire him, moving around the last bit of shake left. "It's your singing that gives you away." I smile at him, still looking at his face.

_He's prettier than I am._

Axl cracks a smile, lowering his voice a few octaves as he sings along. " _You're mine, and we belong together. . ."_

It makes me laugh, but when does he not? All I've done tonight was thoroughly annoy all the people drowsily drinking their coffee and reading the paper in this Denny's with my laughter. All because of Axl.

He closes the checkbook now, money safely inside, tip between the salt and pepper shakers.

"You know, when I said I wanted to talk to you, that didn't mean that I wanted to make you take me out to eat," I tell him honestly. It makes me feel bad that we're here. I already told him all while we pulled into the parking lot.

But of course, he insisted.

"Don't feel bad. I figured you were getting sick of sittin' in my car all the time," Axl says, grabbing my hand on top of the table. His thumb brushes against my skin, a gentle smile on his lips.

"I'm not sick of anything when I'm with you," I counter, interjecting quickly. _God forbid he thinks I feel any differently_. "I wanna be with you all the time."

His whole demeanor gets shy then, something he rarely exhibits. A blush spreads across his cheeks, his eyes dipping to the table before they meet mine again. His hand feels so warm against mine, his grip not faltering once.

All I can think is how I wish I could kiss him here, how I wish I had already told him my intentions behind the phone call I made to him yesterday, why I said I wanted to talk to him tonight. _Tell him that I want to be his girlfriend. How I want leave this in-limbo stage of our relationship behind. That I can't wait another second._

The nerves are what's made me avoid saying it plainly. Axl is attractive and captivating and eating a meal with him all alone has been one of the most intimiate experiences of my whole life so far, other than every time I kiss him. It's intimidating.

"C'mon honey, let's go."

I brush my thoughts away, telling myself that I'll gather the courage once we're truly alone. _I hope. Please. . ._

We make a ruckus as we collect ourselves, Axl's keys and necklaces jingling, my laughter audible as Axl has to assist me with helping get one of the sleeves of my denim jacket on properly.

Once we make sure we've left nothing behind, Axl's hurrying me out of the resturant, hugging me into his side as he holds open the door for us both, letting a rush of cool night air hit us.

The Camaro's shimmery, jet black paint shines underneath a streelight, getting brighter the closer Axl and I advance.

Being the gentlemen he is, Axl opens and closes the passenger's side door for me, the way he usually does before he gets in himself.

In the silence, we both look to the dash at the same instant. The big hand rests on the two, the little hand between the four and five.

"Fuck."

I'll admit it, I'm surprised too.

_I've never been out so late before. Especially not with any man._

When Axl turns to me, he looks sad. His crimson, full lower lip juts out, casting a small shadow just above his chin.

I've never seen Axl Rose pout before.

"I should take you home, baby."

"No-"

"I should, you're tired, I can tell-"

"But I haven't gotten to really talk to you _yet_ ," I pout now myself, my brow furrowing.

"I didn't get to tell you that I want you to be my boyfriend yet."

The words flow out so quick that I hardly catch what I've said until my mind plays it back, echoing in my head.

Even in the dark, I can see the redness on Axl's face. "What?"

It's like he can't believe it. He sounds genuinely surprised.

"I've done all the thinking that I can," I say, trying to sound as confident as possible, even though I'm crumbling on the inside. "And-And, I want to _really_ be with you. I wanna know what we are, and keep it that way."

The only sound I can hear is my own breathing as Axl just looks at me. His mouth is slightly ajar, but no words come out. Not until he shakes his head at me.

"I can't believe you're even givin' me the time of day. God, Chas-"

Axl cuts himself off as he kisses me, his lips soft and pillowly against mine. As much as I'd like to stay this way for hours now, especially after what's just happened, we can't.

_Anybody can see us. Anyone who were to drive by, anyone looking through the windows of the Denny's. We can't be here like this._

"Axl." I comb my fingers through his hair as I look to the ceiling, his head moving down to my neck.

"Hm?"

"You probably should drive me home. I have a feeling Michelle's waiting up for me."

I already told Axl that Michelle knows. At first, he looked as though he was gonna pass out, but I assured him that she's okay. I think he wants to tread carefully around the subject, but I know that it's fine. He'll fully warm up to the facts soon enough.

Axl pauses, his breath fanning over my skin lightly as he breathes in against my neck. "Okay. Just one more."

I feel his words as they leave his lips, how they're sweet and childish, almost as if he's begging for just one more kiss from me.

Happily, I give it to him, my eyes fluttering shut at how good it feels to kiss him and know exactly where we stand. _For the very first time._

When we finally pull out of the Denny's parking lot, I remember that we don't have that long of a drive. _We don't have that much longer to spend together like this, while I feel over the moon._

That makes me move a little closer to Axl, resting my head on his shoulder.

"Do you know when I'll see you again?" I can't hide the feeling in my voice, the gloom. I already know it probably won't be like this. I can't even imagine the immaculate lie Axl had to create to leave the world of Guns N' Roses for just one night, to see me.

One of his hands comes off the wheel, to rest on my thigh over my jeans. Immediately, I lay my hand on top of his, eager to keep him there. _Please._

"Duff's gonna call you or Michelle to talk about comin' to a show-"

"You're kidding, Axl." I take my head off his shoulder to look up at him.

He keeps his eyes on the road, but he doesn't falter, which leads me to believe he's serious. "No, I swear! So you've gotta act surprised honey, okay? He can't know that I told you or nothin', it's all we've been talking about all week. He's such a worrier. He constantly thinks something horrible could happen to you and Michelle. It took a lotta convincing, but I don't think he's gonna change his mind now."

"And you're not worried about me?" I question as I raise an eyebrow, my tone teasing.

Axl glances at me, his hand on my leg squeezing. "No, I'm not, because you're gonna be right up front where I can see you. I'll never let anything bad happen to you, never again."

I know he's talking about Dylan. It's so obvious, with the pained look on his face.

"I know you won't." My heart beats fast as I reach up and press my lips to his cheek, over the light stubble coming in.

_I bet he'd look so good with a five o'clock shadow. Or a beard. What I would give to see that. . ._

"Chas, don't do that."

"Do what?" I ask, before giving him another kiss. "This?"

Axl side eyes me then, and I laugh.

"You're gonna make me want to keep you out all night with me. So stop it, let me do the right thing and take you home. Not to mention, the last time you did that, I nearly crashed."

Just to push his buttons, I lift up the hand in my lap, before placing it up a little higher on my leg. I watch Axl's face as I press him against me, laughing a little to myself.

"What if I don't wanna go home still? Especially not now that you're officially my boyfriend, Axl."

_His hand feels electric, even over my jeans. I might be trying to mess with him, but I'm only playing myself in the process._

"You better stop it, Chasity Grace."

We're turning onto the street behind Michelle's house now. Everything is peaceful, all the cars that line the street just as quiet as their prospective houses.

_Perfect. It's perfect._ _Empty, dark, not even any streetlights._

"Can I at least get a goodbye kiss?" I try to sound as sweet as possible, hoping he'll agree.

It's looking bleak as he slides his hand out from underneath mine, taking it away. That spot that he occupied on my upper thigh feels cold now.

Axl sighs as he puts the car in park, right in front of the wooden fence that encloses Michelle's backyard, the car rumbling softly still.

When he looks at me, I watch the exact moment he caves. He sighs again, letting his shoulders relax, expression defeated. It's masking his eagerness, though. I know it. He's playing this game too.

"C'mere, baby."

I kneel up on the black leather seat, now considering myself an expert at maneuvering myself into Axl's lap after already having done so at least a few times before. _But now, I'm doing so as his girlfriend._

"I can't believe you tried to resist a kiss from me. I'm a great kisser. You've said so yourself," I remind him, laughing. 

"I did, didn't I?" Axl has a smug look on his face as he twirls a stand of my hair between his fingers. "That's because I'm the one who taught you how to kiss."

I roll my eyes, but still lean in, planting one right on his lips. "I think I'm more of a natural. It's a talent I was born with."

Axl takes his turn, kissing me back. "Not with tongue. God, I'm never gonna forget that look on your face, and how you sounded when I did that to you after you got over the shock. My ego grew so much that day."

"I said what I said, it still stands. Anyone could've done it, and I would've reacted the same way. Don't even give yourself the credit."

"Maybe, but I'm the only one that actually has. So I don't know, but I feel like I'm entitled to the credit still."

"You're stubborn," I say.

"Yeah, and you like it," Axl says.

"Maybe. Now shut up and kiss me."

I can't get another word in, because then Axl's somehow getting me splayed out across the whole front seat, him right over me. I'm pretty sure one of his legs is kneeling on the floor of the car, the other in between my legs, but he doesn't seem to care. Not as he coaxes my mouth open with his velvet tongue.

My hands roam everywhere, through his hair, down his shoulders, underneath his jacket. His weight just barely rests on me, our bodies so close. The open mouthed kisses don't stop, not even as Axl shrugs off his jacket, exposing his arms. My whole body feels hot, and I wish I could strip off a layer too. Get even closer to him. He tastes sweet, like sugary maple syrup. It makes me groan, high pitched.

"See, there's those noises. And I've hardly even done anything. I can't even imagine how you'd be if I-"

We both see it at the same instant, the white, bright light beaming into the car, through the side window just above my head.

Hot, searing panic fills my insides, and I feel paralysed. I couldn't move even if I wanted to, not with Axl on top of me, who also appears to be on the verge of losing it.

"Oh my god, it's a cop isn't it-"

Right on cue, I get my answer.

The laughter from outside the car makes me go slack against the material underneath me, Axl reaching above me to roll down the window. 

"God, I wish I had a camera. I mean, that would make me just like Dylan, but at least I would've been able to capture both your faces forever, for my own amusement."

Even though I shouldn't, I immediately feel crippling embarassment replace my fear.

"What the fuck, Michelle?! Get out of here!"

Her and Axl immediately shush me, their noises honestly louder than I am.

All I do is look at Axl, who's still on top of me. When we make eye contact, I telepathically try to tell him to get off me so I can get inside and beat up Michelle for ruining the moment.

"Shut that damn flashlight off, Michelle," Axl tells her warily as he moves away from me.

As requested, she clicks it off from where she stands outside the car, and I pull myself up into a sitting position.

Michelle rests her elbows against the frame of the window, peering inside at us. Her expression is full of amusement, a huge smirk on her face, her hazel eyes wide. "So, what'cha doin' in here at three in the morning?"

"I'm going inside, Michelle," I look at her, hoping she'll spare me from her antics.

But it's already too late.

"How was your little date? Was it worth me staying up to watch infomercials?"

"I took our girl here to Denny's," Axl answers.

"How romantic!"

I can hear the sarcasm in Michelle's voice. It makes me envision pulling her by the hair inside.

"It was, actually," I defend. _That really was our first date. Oh my God. I just went on my first date._

"I'll be sure to keep it our little secret," Michelle says enthusiastically, grinning from me to Axl, tapping her fingers against the car. "You two look like you had fun," She nods, before taking her arms away from the car door "Well, thanks for taking her out and returning her before the sun comes up, Axl. God knows she needed it, poor girl wouldn't have experienced anything if it wasn't for you-"

"Alright, I'm going." I can't stand it any longer. "Bye, Axl."

My hand rests on the door handle as I go to get out of the car, but Axl's catching my face in his hands before I can make another move to escape.

"Wait."

I'm caught in a mix of embarassment and pleasure as Axl weaves his tongue with mine, kissing me thoroughly as his hands cup my cheeks. It takes me by surprise, makes me melt between his hands, and I manage to forget Michelle is present until I hear her behind me.

Her 'holy shit' is quiet, but still audible. It mimics the one in my head.

I can see the faint trail of wetness still connecting my lips to Axl's once we've pulled away. One of his big hands caresses the side of my face, his thumb even running over my swollen lower lip as he does.

"Bye, baby."

"Bye, Axl," I sound out of breath, and that's because I am.

_He's such a showoff, so cocky sometimes. But Jesus, is he good at making me feel good while he does it._

He looks proud about it, really, and for a heartbeat, he just smiles at me before I realize I should be getting out of the car now.

Once I've shut the door behind me, Axl's calling out that he'll see us soon. Michelle and I witness the Camaro speed off from the safety of the sidewalk.

Her jaw goes slack the second the roar of Axl's car can't be heard anymore, and she stares into my eyes.

"Holy fuck, Chas."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as the writer, this is one of the chapters that i hold so tightly to my heart! the inspo for this one was something i read a long time ago. during the Use Your Illusion tour, Axl used to go and eat at the Denny's or whatever diner type place that was open after shows around 3-5 A.M.! he liked to get country fried steak (country boy i love youuu) and he liked those type of places because he knew he wouldn't be seen/bothered. and when we get to the uyi tour, i do want to elaborate on that, as well as this chapter 💕💓 visual is up on tumblr!!


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Axl's POV!

I don't just like her, I love her.

_I love her. I love her. I love-_

"Axl!"

My room is a blur as my eyes snap from the stark white ceiling to my closed door, where Duff's voice travels through the rest of our apartment.

I hate yelling. He knows I hate yelling. _That motherfucker._

My limbs feel tired already as I pick myself up off my bed, away from the made white sheets that I've been laying on top of in my clothes for I don't know how long.

_Thinking about her. Like a schoolgirl with a crush._

The door rattles after I throw it back, revealing the messy hallway. Slash and Steve invited people over last night. It was a shitshow.

I hate messes. They know I hate messes. _Motherfuckers._

"What's happening?" I feel my own voice rattle in my chest, still hoarse from the two hour show we played yesterday.

The Roxy was so crowded that they ran out of water in the summer heat, so I had to go without in between songs. That, no air conditioning, and stage diving into the crowd with my bad knees set the means for my day of recovery. Sitting on my ass, doing nothing, even though there's plenty of responsibilities I should be tending to.

_An excuse to drool over Chas. All. Day._

Duff stands alone in the disheveled living room, and from far away, he looks lankier than usual.

"I called the girls. Michelle nearly made me go deaf on the phone when I told her they can go to the show-"

"Was Chas there?"

_Hold your fucking horses. It's a wonder he hasn't put all the pieces together already._

"Yeah. And my mom got Michelle a car! Chas was yelling in the background about how junky it is, and they were arguin' like they always do," Duff smiles at the beer can littered floor as he talks, shaking his head. "Said they're gonna go drive it. They don't even have licenses, but I need to ease back a bit, I know it, so I'm gonna try not to worry about 'em."

"Chas is just jealous," I tell Duff, grinning myself.

I know how much that girl wants a car. She's complained just about a million times to anyone who'll listen.

_One day, maybe I'll be able to get her a car. A really nice one. If this record works out and the band survives. In the mean time, I'll just have to let her drive the Camaro. Sweet girl won't even be able to see over the steering wheel. . ._

"Jesus, I hope they don't kill themselves while on the road. It's not a good idea, I don't know how Alice let them go-"

"Stop it, before you make me worry for them too," I say genuinely.

_Chas is smart. She's gonna be alright. I'm sure they're only going down the street and back._

Duff groans, falling back onto the black leather couch behind him. "See! I'm fuckin' telling you, I don't know how we're gonna wrangle them in the night of the show. We're gonna have them in the club, around God knows who, with alcohol, and drugs, and-and other bands! Fuckin' Vince and all them are bad news, how are we gonna make sure the girls aren't bothered by any of them, you know how they are."

I ruminate on that for a second, the same way I have been since we even conceived the idea of the girls tagging along.

_In a week, I'm taking my young, sweet girlfriend to a bar. One where there will be vices galore, plus other bands. Guys in those bands who are notorious for sleeping around, crawling with disease and prey on girls like her, like Chas._

It scares me. It makes me jealous right down to my core, but ignites my urge to shield her from it all. To keep her, her. Away from the world I live in, where people are mean and jaded and out for blood.

Chasity is the nicest girl I've ever met. Everyone she meets ends up wrapped around her little fingers, including me. That's just how she is.

_I love her. I love her, and she doesn't even know it._

"Remember," I start, recalling what we've already come up with to calm us both. "We're just gonna keep an eye on them, Mandy and Pamela will help. And once it's over, back home they go. The music video wasn't so bad-"

"Maybe, but I nearly had a damn heart attack over that, too."

"It's gonna be fine. It will be." I put it out there, into the universe. Begging.

_Begging that I won't have to punch any fucking creeps for doing so much as looking at them like they're a piece of meat._

It makes me want to cover both her and Michelle in sheets, like ghosts on Halloween. Like they're invisible.

"God, I fucking hope so." Duff groans more as he runs his hands through his hair, before looking at me. "Are you even gonna be able to go on then, Mr. 'I'm a fucking pussy I feel terrible because there was no AC'? Or will you _still_ be recovering?"

I roll my eyes before sighing, not wanting to hear him bitch at me like he did last night after the show, when I locked myself in my room instead of partying with them all.

"You're hilarious, you fuckin' giraffe."

He gives me the middle finger, scoffing. "Don't be so fuckin' prissy. I was the one who had to deal with a hangover _and_ play nurse to Steve and Slash who are drunk all over again at the studio. They're still there, by the way, with Izzy, racking up all types of bills with all our names on them."

"Great," I wave him off before turning back down the hall, quickly running out of fucks to give. "My throat hurts. I'm going to lay down. I've had enough of the bitching for today."

When he snaps back at me, my only response is the slam of my door behind me.

The closer we get to the release date of Appetite for Destruction, the more tensions rise amongst us all. Money is a big factor in all that.

It's quickly running out. All the caps are being placed on us way sooner than we thought, and promises from the label are falling through when it comes to the album. They've just told us that we'll never make it on MTV, that we basically wasted five thousand dollars on the Welcome To The Jungle video. That fight is just starting, amongst all the others. Songs we want to have on the record but can't, because of budgeting. The cover art, which apparently is too offensive. Problems with finding us a tour to hop on as support in a few months, as we apparently can't be given a spot due to everyone's apprehension with us because of our reputation.

Not to mention, the everyday bullshit, with everyone's crap that they pull. Steven nearly landing in jail for causing mayhem on the Strip, Slash's girlfriend Sally screaming at him through our front door at least once a week, Izzy's fraternizing with strippers getting him tied up with their boyfriends who are also his dealers. Duff's love for vodka. My love for a seventeen year old girl who's practically his sister.

_Chasity, Chasity, Chasity._

I lay on the side of my bed closest to my nightstand, where my glasses and spare cigarettes rest. The side she chose in her drunken stupor.

I've forced myself to contemplate just what could happen if Duff put all the pieces together. My sneaking out late, Chas squirming every time she sees me, Sweet Child O' Mine (which is slated as number nine on the tracklist now, much to everyone's dismay.) Me not having brought any girls back to our apartment for nearly a year.

See, me becoming practically celibate wasn't a planned thing. Between being in the studio, doing shows, and absolutely losing my fucking mind over Chasity, there's been no time or desires for anything, with anyone.

_Nobody but Chas._

But I can't. Only what she wants from me, what she's comfortable with, and she's given me no indication of wanting to do anything but kissing.

Yeah, kissing me like a porn star, and letting me look at her panties in public, but that's not sex.

Taking things slow, especially _this_ slow isn't my usual fashion, but I'd do anything for Chasity. _Anything_.

Even if that means that after every time I'm alone with her, I have to get myself off so I'm not sneaking back into the apartment hard as a rock.

She's just so sweet, that I don't even care that I've become best friends with my right hand.

_I'd wait forever for Chasity._

I can't even tell her I love her. I don't want to scare her off, make her overwhelmed. Poor girl didn't even believe that I wanted her to be mine when I said so, right to her face, so how would she react to me telling her that I love her, when it was seven days ago that we barely even made things official?

_"You're too attatched, Axl." "You're too emotional."_

Everyone's always told me that, my whole life. And I know it.

Chasity just makes me feel so alive. She's everything I've never had, everything that's been unattainable, and she doesn't even know it. She doesn't even know how much she means to me.

I'm in too deep. It's only been a few months.

_I hope it's forever. I hope she doesn't get sick of me, everything that comes along with me._

Fuck it all, right?

_I'm in too deep._


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chas and Michelle go to the mall! Plot development!

"I just can't believe you got a car before I did."

"Don't be jealous, Chas. We both know that if it had been you driving us here, we never would've made it."

I side eye Michelle at the same instant we move up in the line for Hotdog On A Stick, the scent of fried food all around us.

The Sherman Oaks Mall is arguably the best in the entire Los Angeles area. It beats out all the ones in Pasadena, which lack when it comes to variety. But this one has everything-and on days like this, it's packed. I blame Valley Girl, even though it's been four years since it came out. 

When Michelle starts to giggle next to me, her manicured hand coming up to cover her lips, I get even more annoyed.

I woke up to her screaming in the street. Literally. I thought she was being murdered out there as she howled with joy over the used station wagon parked on the curb. There's a few chips in the beige paint, and sometimes the gas light comes on when it doesn't need to. But other than that, Alice deemed it good enough to be Michelle's first car.

Somehow, both our mothers let us take off in it a few hours later, even though we've only got permits that we've had since the first semester of senior year.

_"The two of you together equal one full license. You'll be fine."_

The freeway was the scariest part. I really thought we were going to die. I had to remind Michelle that when you switch lanes, you're supposed to put your signal on.

"God, I actually can't believe this either, any of it. I've got a car, this is the first time we've ever _really_ gone somewhere alone, and your boyfriend is Axl Rose. If somebody had told me any of this like, a couple months ago, I would've passed out."

Michelle hasn't stopped bringing up Axl. It's a multiple times a day occurrence now, but I can't say that I mind talking about him. I miss him. It's been a few days since we've seen him, and even then, it was just for a few minutes when Duff came by to grab a demo tape left on accident.

When he called this morning, Michelle and I had to fake our reactions to hearing about the upcoming show we're allowed to go to, which happens to fall on the night of my eighteenth birthday. I think Michelle might've overdone it with the screaming, especially after this morning, but Duff believed it nonetheless. We're supposed to be buying outfits for it today, but God knows what will happen.

All I'm sure of is that I miss Axl. He called yesterday and left a voicemail, and I have yet to get back to him. Michelle's been running me ragged since I came into consciousness this morning, there's been no time to sit down _alone_ and give Axl a call back.

_I miss him._

"I have a question."

As we move forward in line, our turn to order almost up, Michelle's whole face becomes lit up a rosy red from the neon lights of the signs directly above. They bounce off her blonde, nearly platinum hair. It only accentuates the wicked look in her eyes.

I brace myself.

"Have you guys fucked?"

I manage to choke on my own spit, the air in my throat trapped as I try to simultaneously look around, attempting to make sure no one else heard that.

Based on the busy conversations and loud music around us, I guess not.

"Michelle!"

I can't even begin to yell at her, because the girl behind the counter in her blue, yellow, and red uniform is grinning at us with her braces, and asking what we'll have.

We settle for fries, corndogs, and lemonade. Neither of us got to eat breakfast, we ran out of the house so fast.

After we pay, we move over to wait for our food. I try to keep my composure as Michelle stares, still wanting me to discuss her godforsaken question.

_Sex? She wants to know if I've had_ sex _with_ _Axl_.

"I haven't even _begun_ ," I emphasize that last word as I whisper to her, "To think about _that_."

Her face is full of surprise as our number is called, and she quickly takes our tray while I grab our pink lemonades in their shiny blue cups.

"You're joking. You're _so_ lying!"

"Oh, so you think I've-that I've-"

Michelle actually cackles out loud as I follow behind her, in search of an emtpy table for two in the crowded food court.

"No! It's clear you haven't-I'm just so shocked!"

"You're always shocked."

"Well, can you blame me? Chas," Michelle says as she falls down into the wooden chair across from me, and begins to pick at her fries. "He shoved his tongue down your throat right in front of me-I saw it all! People only do that if they've fucked, or wanna fuck-"

"Jesus Christ! Can you not use that word, it's so like, vulgar-"

"Oh, sorry, Miss 'I'm Totally Innocent'. Miss 'Purity'. Miss _Chasity_ ," Michelle laughs.

I groan before picking up my drink and bringing the straw to my lips. "You don't have to go that far. I never said I was! Saying _fucked_ is just so like, not what I would want. That sounds like it's not romantic."

"Would you rather I say _making love_ in this mall right now?"

I nearly choke again, but on lemonade this time. "No! That's corny."

"Exactly. Fucked it is."

"I guess so," I say apprehensively.

"Well, like I said, I'm just confused about what's going on here. You've been making out for months, but that's truly it? That's as far as it's gone? Axl is like, really hot. He's had a lot of experience, I just know it. And all he's done is kissed you?"

"He hasn't just kissed me-"

"What-"

_I shouldn't tell her, but it's already too late. God help me._

"He's seen my panties. On two seperate occasions."

Michelle's eyes nearly pop out of her skull and roll across the table, right into my ketchup.

"He's _what_?!"

I laugh at her now. "Yeah! The first time was an accident, and he's made fun of me for it, but the second time, he lifted up my skirt, and just took a look. It was like, hmm, I would say. . . A solid minute? And I can't forget to mention that it was on that day you conned everyone into Axl taking me back to Pasadena. While we were parked on some random street. In his front seat. And I was straddling him. And he told me he liked them, pretty much."

For a second, all I can hear is The Go-Go's until Michelle opens her mouth. 

"You're both perverts. Both of you."

"Is that supposed to be an insult?" My tone is nonchalant as I pick up my corndog before taking a big bite.

How can I focus on this conversation when there's all this good food in front of me?

Michelle doesn't answer, not until she's finished half her fries. "You know, I'm not sure about _that_ , but I am sure that this entire situation is baffling."

"Why's that? I feel like it's pretty straightforward."

"Because," She says like it's obvious. "You'd think you'd want to fuck him by now."

_Of course I want to have sex with Axl! If I'd give my virginity to anyone, it would be him. Especially if it would be anything like how I think it would, like my little dream I had of us in Michelle's kitchen in the middle of the night._

"I just don't know if I'm ready," I admit out loud. "Like if I saw him today, and we were all alone, I don't know."

My mind reels at that, and I feel my eyes flicker all around the table while I think about it.

_I know it would be amazing. I know that Axl's no virgin himself, but that doesn't bother me. Of course he isn't! But that also makes it daunting._ Sex _with Axl. Saying it in my head sounds intimidating. Going to Denny's with him sure was, even if it did turn out to be fun. And what if I'm bad at it? God, that embarassment would scar me._

"Chas, calm down."

"How do I do that when this is all hitting me right now? All this stuff I've never thought about, or considered before. All because now I have a boyfriend, and we're supposed to have sex. How do people do this?"

Michelle pats my arm with her salt covered fingers. "You sound stressed-don't be. You've got Axl in your clutches, he's totally mesmerized by you. And he's such a good guy! Really," She nods her head "He's the sweetest. Clearly, you two will fuck when it's the right time."

_"When it's the right time."_

"When's the right time??"

Michelle's much more calm than I am. How, I don't know.

_Maybe it's got something to do with how she doesn't have to think about being fucked by an absolute sex god like Axl Rose. The same man who sings while thrusting his hips in front of hundreds of people, shirtless. He's absolutely goregous, and makes me melt every time I see him._

_May God seriously help me._

"Whenever you want to, and he wants to! That's all there is to it," She says simply. 

"That's really helpful, thanks."

Michelle rolls her eyes as she chews after biting off some of her corndog. "You've got to calm down. I wasn't trying to stress you out. Look, all I know is that Axl's definitely up to it, but he's clearly waiting for you to make the first move. The ball is in your court."

"Again," I say. "It was for me like, a week ago, and it is again." I can't help it as I groan, a weight coming to bear on my shoulders once more. It's not as heavy as it was when I wasn't sure if making things official was right, but it's definitely there.

_How do people date? How do people get through this? I certainly wouldn't, if I hadn't told Michelle._

I bury my head in my hands for a second before looking up again, trying to gain my bearings.

_I just can't believe this. I really thought there was no chance with Axl, that I'd go the rest of my life wishing he didn't get away, and now, I'm sitting here talking about losing my virginity to him, because it could very well happen. Oh. My. God._

"This is insane. I bet he doesn't even care!"

"He doesn't care? You think he doesn't care?! I would bet money that after every time he sees you," Michelle leans forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. "He thinks about it. Especially if he's looking at your panties! That was probably just jack-off material. Ha! I know it! All guys do it, and with him dating you, he definitely is!"

I hear the gasp leave my lips before it even registers in my brain that it came from me.

"You-you think that he-"

Michelle nods vigorously, completely serious. "Yes."

I speak without thinking then, unable to stop my muscles as they form a smile on my face. "Why is that flattering, like a compliment?"

Michelle laughs at me, but I shake my head.

"I'm serious! God, it's. . . It's hot."

_When you don't consider how it feels to be frustrated, how bad it makes me feel that he probably feels that way, and I'm just oblivious. I would know, after that dream I had. When I was faced with no choice but to eat breakfast across from Axl while he was half-naked ten minutes later, calling me names and brushing up against me in front of everyone. Jesus. . ._

As she starts to get red, I know I do too.

"All I ask is that you two use protection. Don't have any kids, please," Michelle begs, even though we both know she's joking.

"God, I haven't even thought about how I'm going to deal with that-"

"Hi!"

Michelle and I both look upwards from our conversation, to the unknown man casting a shadow over our Hotdog On A Stick.

For a second, I think we're about to get kicked out of this mall for openly discussing the topic of sex, but that thought quickly dimishes the longer I look at the guy standing beside our table.

He looks expensive. Even with his light stubble, dark curly hair, and the single silver earring dangling from his right ear, the jeans he wears must be designer along with his leather shoes. I can't tell what age he is. Maybe mid-twenties, early thirties. I genuinely don't know.

_Who is he?_

"My name is Paul, and I'm an agent for Elite International, the modeling agency based here in Los Angeles, as well as New York City," His voice is deep but cheery, and while he sticks out a hand, I can't help but notice it's extremely well groomed.

I shake it first, then Michelle.

"I'm Chasity," I gesture to myself, then to Michelle, still unsure of just what it is that's suddenly happening to us right now, interrupting my dilemma. "And this is my best friend, Michelle."

He smiles at us, but mostly me.

If I said this wasn't odd, and alarming, I'd be lying.

"So Chasity, have you ever modeled before?" Paul sticks his hands in his jean pockets, all casual.

I shake my head slowly, glancing at Michelle. Her eyes are wide, lips pressed together like she's just as bewildered as I am.

"No, I haven't," I say.

"Oh, okay! Well, I was just having a coffee, and I couldn't help but notice you, your look. Not many girls have it. None that I've seen, actually, and I've been doing this for the last decade. I think you'd be great to have at Elite, and I want to invite you to meet with my boss, see what happens," Paul shrugs as he continues to smile warmly, looking at me while he pulls out a wallet from his pocket. "I'm gonna give you my card, Chasity. Think about it, it would be an amazing opportunity. Give me a call, okay?" He extends his hand, and in between his fingers is a small white business card.

I take it from him, still hesitating for some reason.

"Okay, I will. Thank you."

Paul says goodbye to us, and then he disappears, taking all his style and mystery with him. The only thing that's left behind as proof is the thick card in my hand, the white square adorned with the Elite International logo, Paul's name, and a phone number.

Michelle and I look at each other for a second, then back to the business card.

"Chas, that was like a movie," Michelle breathes, her whole face lit up.

"You've just been scouted!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paul's faceclaim is Lenny Kravitz, particularly his look in the Hunger Games as Cinna!


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The longest chapter yet. Chassy turns eighteen 🎉💕
> 
> Mild smut warning.

Every year when July sixth rolls around, it's like all of America is celebrating my birthday with me.

The anniversary of the independence of the United States is always two days before, but with it being the huge affair it is, people celebrate practically the entire week. I've always had the privilege of feeling as though every grand fireworks display is for me, and tonight is no exception. It marks the eighteenth one, and it feels just as sweet as all the others.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Off on the other end of the house, I hear my mother's muffled exclamations of her being startled, but for me, it makes a rush go through my center.

_Eighteen! Eighteen! Eighteen!_   
_I'm eighteen now._

"Are you ready?" My hands grip onto the white wooden banister at the top of the stairs, waiting to hear their reply from below.

Duff and Axl have been here for five minutes, and I haven't come down to see them yet. I also wouldn't let them up the stairs.

"I don't even know what I'm about to see, honey!" Duff calls back up to me gruffly, and I look beside me at Michelle, who rolls her eyes.

The hot pink, neon glittery sash and tiara were her idea. Both say " _EIGHTEEN_!" in bold letters, and the crown has fluffy pink feathers on it. _Fitting. Perfect._

Michelle paid a visit to the local party store this morning, and I woke up to her spraying silly string in my face. A pint of strawberry ice cream was also waiting for me on the kitchen table, and my mother didn't even yell at me as I trailed blue and green foam all over the house while having sugar for breakfast.

_Because I'm eighteen!_

"Well are you ready?!" I holler, leaning forward as Michelle laughs beside me.

"Yes!"

Both Duff and Axl answer now, their impatience clear in their mutual tone.

I try not to let it put a damper on the festivities, but it does. Just a little.

I grab Michelle's arm as I begin to descend down the stairs, my black Converse slapping loudly against the wood as I adjust the tiara resting on my hair, hoping it's not getting tangled in my waves and curls.

_And Axl's about to see me!_

I let my nails drag along the railing as I continue down, Michelle right behind me.

Just as I'm about to do what I practiced, lift my arms up in the air in praise the second I'm visible to any eyes from down in the living room, I'm met with near screaming.

"What are you wearing?!"

"Go right back up there, both of you, or so help me God-"

I know there's a look of horror on my face as I stare from Duff, to Axl, to Michelle.

I can't help it as I pause on Axl, seeing past the look on his face that no-doubt mimics my own. At the red cascading down his shoulders, ripped band t-shirt missing sleeves, leather pants, cowboy boots, and what appears to be new ink on his lower forearm.

I don't even get a chance to ask if that's really a new tattoo, because Duff is yelling again.

"For the love of God," Duff leaves a hand on his hip over his black jeans as he gestures up towards us while looking to Axl, who appears tiny next to him.

It's even funnier because their outfits are so similar. Their concert attire, the earrings, everything. But today, Duff's wearing a bandana and not Axl.

"If I had known you were gonna get all dolled up, I would've marched up there ten minutes ago and picked two sheets out of the linen closet to put over you two-"

"It's my birthday, I'm eighteen, and I'm going to a concert! Of course I'm," I raise my hands in the air, ready to make quotation marks with my fingers "'All dolled up', Michael!"

I would hardly call a plain black, cotton off the shoulder top, high waisted jean shorts and tennis shoes dolled up, but then again, I did do more makeup than usual.

_But I don't care. He sounds like my father, even though my dad has never actually said anything like that, with the exception of prom. He's never here to say anything like that. He's always working. Even today, the day his first-born daughter turns eighteen years old. Crime never stops, I guess._

If I thought that the aura of fun was ruined a moment ago, it _definitely_ is now, from everything.

_Dad, Duff. Axl, not even having anything to say, or even just a smile for me. All of it._

"We look good! Good enough to ditch you two losers to go hang out with the fun bands! We're gonna find cool rock boyfriends, and they're not going to be nearly as annoying as the two of you," Michelle points a threatening finger at them both, her words like ice. She smirks then, her eyes flickering to me for a moment.

_Good one, Michelle. As if! The one guy I actually want is right in front of me, and he's acting as if I just rolled out of bed and said "Ta-Dah!"_

We watch Axl and Duff's faces both contort with the same expression, moving away from initial shock to downright anger. Brows furrow, jaws clench, and multiple glances are exchanged between them, almost like a form of silent communication.

I know what it is that they're coming to. And I won't do it.

"I'm not changing, and neither is Michelle. Not a damn chance," I protest. "Makeup stays on too! Who cares what we look like!"

_I don't get it. Would they rather we didn't shower for a week and wear crumb riddled pajamas that haven't seen anything but the T.V. set?_

"Who cares?!" They speak in unison again, rhetorically.

"For your information," Duff starts, "We're opening for Mötley Crüe tonight-"

Michelle and I's collective gasp is enough to cut him off.

All summer, we've been playing the hell out of the "Girls, Girls, Girls" vinyl we both split the cost of. That thing is nearly worn into the player upstairs in my room right this second!

_The Crüe is no Guns N' Roses, they're entirely different, really, but they're good. Maybe none of them are anywhere near as hot as Axl, but they've got talent for sure._

"I can't believe you neglected to tell us this sooner," I scold, completely confused as to why this is news right now.

_I can't believe I'm going to see Mötley Crüe play tonight. Oh. My. God._

"Can we meet them? Please?!" Michelle presses her hands together in prayer. "Oh _please_ , Duff, let us meet them for just a second, you know how much we love their songs-"

"Absolutely not!" Duff snaps.

"If only you knew what we did," Axl laughs haughtily, shaking his head. He almost seems. . . Annoyed.

_God, he hasn't been genuinely bothered with me in a long, long time._

"They had to have their bus fuckin' _fumigated_ because of all the crabs they've got-god, no, you're not going _anywhere_ near them."

"It's our set, and then back home," Axl says, also putting his foot down.

_We'll see about that._

"And the crown and sash are stayin' here. No buts, or we'll go right now-"

"Fine," Michelle and I both sigh, defeated.

_I hate it when he does this. Uses his power over us, the forces he's possessed our whole lives. Back while Alice and both my parents all worked, in the days before my sister Layla was born, Duff babysat Michelle, me, and a toddler version of my brother Shawn. He uses the same tone he used to now, and it's just as annoying over a decade later._

I frown as I carefully take the crown off my head, Michelle releasing a couple stands that get caught as I raise it off my head. Then goes the sash, just as I see Duff reach for the tissue box on the end table near him.

_No, no, no!_

"Oh, come on," I groan. "I said-"

"Blot, both of you. I know how this makeup shit works, sweetheart! I used to slather it on back in the L.A. Guns and Hollywood Rose days. There's pictures to prove it." Duff extends a very long arm, two tissues between his fingers as they poke through the slits in the staircase.

We begrudgingly lean forward, taking them from him.

"Yeah, and we're way prettier than you ever were," Michelle retorts.

_Agreed._

I fold the tissue in half, Michelle mimicking my movements as we both press down, leaving cherry colored kiss-marks on the otherwise perfect white material. At least half the Revlon color I painstakingly applied is gone, leaving what's probably a faint tint of red on my lips now.

_What a waste._

"Good. Now let's go. We go on at nine."

No one says another word as Michelle and I both toss our tissues in the kitchen trash, and I set the tiara and sash to rest carefully on the mahogany dining room table.

My mother has no qualms or cares as Duff makes me call out to her that we're leaving now. She doesn't even tell me when I need to be home, or take a peek at us before we step through the door. She simply says "Bye!"

Outside, the heat is already diminishing as the sun sets farther and farther down in the deep purple sky. In the distance, there's quiet sounds of _pop!_ and _bang!_ , families still trying to use up their large firework packages from the grocery store.

_Eighteen! Eighteen! Eighteen!_

"And don't tell anybody it's your birthday, Chassy," Duff says.

I stop, mid-step then, on the paved path that leads down to the sidewalk, where Duff's van is parked.

" _You_ haven't even wished me happy birthday, not once."

I stare at Duff's back until he turns around, arms coming up to take me between them.

"Happy birthday, doll. Really, I mean it. I'm just stressed, this is a big night for us as a band, and I wanna also keep you 'n Michelle safe at the same time. You've never been on The Strip at night, Chas. It's like a whole other world."

I stare at the grass, my hands flat against Duff's back. "You're an asshole."

"I know. But there's way bigger ones where we're about to go, and I love you too much to let them lure you, or Michelle in. And letting you wear a bright ass crown that says 'I'm legal!' wouldn't be very older brother-y of me."

"You're so lucky that I love you too."

Duff releases me, and I'll admit it, that helped. _At least he got the hint and said it. He was nice, even for just a moment. That's more than I'll get out of Axl. For now, at least._

I don't expect him to say or do anything, not so long as we're around other people.

There's too much risk. I know it, and he knows it. We're at the point where it's difficult to keep straight faces, even right now as I pass by him. Not to mention, if Michelle says she can constantly feel the energy between Axl and I any time we get close, then surely it can't be far off from Michael, too.

_God forbid. Just because as of today it would be all good and fine with the law, doesn't mean it would be with the guy who's the older brother I never had._

But even without words, I know Axl is still sweet too, underneath his own feelings of terror at my outfit and aesthetic choices.

_He probably thinks I look good, irrational fears of his set aside. I give it an hour or two until I hear his true thoughts. I'd bet money._

I can't help it as I smile to myself a little as I get into the van, after catching Axl glancing at me again, even if it is for a fleeting moment.

It was something, and something is better than nothing.

Duff cranks up the radio the second we get on the main road, driving to the freeway entrance that takes you towards Downtown Los Angeles.

As I watch Duff drive, fingers tapping the wheel, Axl making him laugh in conversation I can't make out, I realize they've left their hard-ass ways back in Pasadena.

Michelle must too, because she speaks first.

"What makes today's show so special? Other than the guest of honor," She grabs at my arm for a second, making me slap her hand away.

Duff's hazel eyes look into the rearview mirror, at us in the backseat. "Like I said, we're opening for Mötley. And we're thinkin' that with their new album, we might be able to convince their manager to pull some strings and get us on their lineup, as an opening act on their tour."

"A dude from Rolling Stone is also gonna be there tonight," Axl chimes in. "Doin' the very first press write-up on Appetite, and an interview. We got the call this morning, and it should be in next month's issue, right before the record drops."

"That's so cool," Michelle marvels.

I'll admit it, all of that does sound incredibly exciting. I feel the same adrenaline that I did the day they got signed at Geffen, and the band rode down the street in this exact van, hollering out every window with the contract in hand. Like the stakes are high. And yet, Michelle and I are being thrown in on top of it tonight, extra baggage to worry about.

I decide that I'll be on my best behavior, from this moment forward.

_They're stressed, and Michelle and I are only making it worse. Duff has anxiety, he always has, and I know that. Him and Ax just want to make sure we aren't taken advantage of. I can appreciate that, but then again, I know that no matter how I look, Axl and Duff and the rest of the band will protect me_ _anyways. They like to make things more complicated than they need to be. That's how they are. It's like the music fogs their brains_ _._

"Where's Stevie, Iz, and Slash?" I inquire, staring out the tinted window to my right, at the crowded freeway.

"Prepping all our gear at the Whiskey, probably getting drunk," Duff answers as he switches lanes, the engine revving.

It gives me flashbacks to last week, when Michelle tried the same exact thing on this same exact freeway, and it was one of the scariest moments of my life.

"Speaking of getting drunk, I'm definitely gonna be by the time we go on, girls, so if you need somethin', I dunno how much help I'll be."

Is he joking? Is he serious? I can't tell.

Regardless, Duff's words scare me.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I frown, staring at the back of his head. Just because he's laughing doesn't mean he's kidding. Not necessarily.

"That means that I can't play sober tonight, sweet Chasity Grace! I mean, I never can, but especially not now. Fuck, I might throw up-"

"Don't you _dare_ throw the fuck up, Duff. At least give me enough warning to grab the wheel, or pull over. Jesus christ-"

"I think you guys need to calm down, and have a little faith," Michelle counters them both, crossing her arms over her pink tank-top covered chest.

I observe Duff and Axl as closely as I can, wide-eyed. I can feel their emotions seeping into me now.

_Duff is so stressed he wants to throw up. He wants to get so drunk that he won't feel this way, won't feel anything. It's bad. This is bad._

I sigh deeply, pinching the bridge of my nose, the van still speeding down the freeway. _Let me make it through this night. Please._

"Can we all just relax? Please, it's my birthday, and I just want to have fun, not act like this is the end of the world right now, on the freeway, while going eighty miles an hour."

I cannot even imagine what it probably looks like at the venue right now, with Steven, Izzy, and Slash. They're probably drunk already like he said. Surely terrified too.

It's complete and utter silence from the front seat, and the usual chatter-box next to me. So I continue.

"I mean really, you're gonna be fine, all of you. You've played the songs so much you could do it in your sleep. Hell, even I can, with my limited skill."

Duff's shared some of his expertise with Michelle and I over the years, a bit of drums, guitar, bass. I've always been more interested in it than Michelle, but I'd say that she's better at guitar, while I've caught on to bass more than she has. But still, both of us can't actually play anything of value. Except maybe all of Appetite for Destruction.

"And it's gonna be like Michelle and I aren't even there," I say mostly to her, my tone stern. "You're not gonna have to worry about us. We know you're going to do great, and we're just gonna be happy to even be there, out of the way."

Michelle raises an eyebrow at me, as if to say "are you sure about that?"

"We just want to support you guys, seriously. We know what you're capable of, and you should too. You've made it this far, after all."

I'm surprised as Duff sticks his hand behind himself, reaching to squeeze mine for hardly a second, all while he drives. "Thanks, Chas. You two have always been our good luck charm, you know that?"

"Yep." Michelle and I's voices sync, not a waver of doubt present as we agree with Duff.

We exit the freeway now, easing onto the streets of Downtown Los Angeles. The sky is dark out the windows, lit streetlights lining both sides of the road, which is populated with cars. But still, traffic moves quickly, a rare feat in Los Angeles during the summer.

_We are lucky tonight._

The tall skyscrapers that are normally a distant view most days are close now, just blocks away. As Duff said, I've never been on Sunset Boulevard past sundown, except to go to Tower Records. I know that it's close though, once we start to pass by more and more groups of people walking on the sidewalks, all different types of people. Young ones, older ones, groups of all guys, all girls. Ones who walk in high heels and short skirts, their hair done high. Men in leather jackets and biker boots, with patches all over their sleeves.

When Duff makes a right turn and eases onto a vast expanse of road, the lanes widening, all the lights instantly brighter, everything changes.

It's all bars and concert venues, tattoo shops, diners, record stores, and little boutiques. Motorcycles and cars are at every meter, all the small parking lots at capacity. The sidewalks are crowded, reminding me of the mall with how packed together people are. Every pole and metal surface is covered in paper, flyers for all different bands and events being advertised. The signs that hang from every window and building are brightly colored, all blurring together to create long streaks of neon. It's considerably louder too, music pouring out of every open door and car around us, all the different songs playing at once to create a type of theme. One that's upbeat and makes me feel excited.

_Things happen here. This is where Guns N' Roses started, where they got together. Back home, in Pasadena, I only get to see parts of them. But here, they're in their element. This is their world, and I'm finally about to be immersed in it._

Michelle and I are just as impatient as each other to start living out this night, that we've already unclicked our seatbelts as Duff parks on a corner, outside a packed bar.

Him and Axl both get out, and Michelle and I practically tumble onto the curb, following their lead. When we look at each other, my eyes boring into hers, we both smile nervously, my heart pounding in my chest.

"I can't believe we're here."

"Neither can I."

People walk by quickly, caught up in their own conversations. The air no longer smells clean and open, the scent of cigarettes and exhaust seeping into my pores. It wakes me up a little, makes me more alert to the somehow perfectly integrated chaos happening around me.

When we fall into line, blending into the crowds walking every which way. I just follow the guys, letting them blindly lead while I marvel at all the sights around me, the people and stores and commotion.

After crossing the street, we stand in front of a red building right on the corner. The Whisky A Go-Go. The white marquee is lit up, black letters looking huge from this angle.

_"TONIGHT:_

_MOTLEY CRUE_

_GUNS N' ROSES_

_SOLD OUT"_

  
The line is wrapped around the block, leading up to the entrance on the side of the building.

"Are we gonna have to stand in that?" I ask quietly, worried.

There's so many people I'm not sure how they're all going to fit inside.

"Of course not," Axl shakes his head, looking back at me.

Axl pulls me along with him, Duff and Michelle ahead of us. We go past the entire line of people waiting- _hoping_ -to get in. We walk right up to the front, where a bouncer stands in all black, towering over all of us except Duff.

And as if it's nothing, Duff shakes hands with him, gestures to me, Michelle, and Axl, and then the guy is stepping aside, letting us enter into the dark ahead.

Inside, it's already packed, and up on the stage, I can see the black banner with the Guns N' Roses logo hung up, everything assembled for the guys to go on soon.

Quickly, we pass by a wall of red leather booths beside the bar, each one of them packed with people. These directly face the stage, and the crowd assembling in front of it. A staircase leads up, probably to another bar and more seating. 

Right beside the stage is a door, one marked " _BACKSTAGE ACCESS"_. An older man paces in front of it, one who looks like he doesn't belong in a place like this. His slicked back hair and polo shirt are too proper. 

But the words that come out of his mouth? They're the opposite of what I'd expect. 

"There you two are! And you brought groupies with you?! I thought I told you guys, no sluts allowed in the dressing rooms, it's distracting for everybody!"

A hand is gestured towards Michelle and I, one with a strong conviction. It's threatening, and makes me look to Michelle, who appears to be just as shocked. 

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Alan," Duff retorts, narrowing his eyes. "These are my fuckin' kid sisters, for God's sake. My pals. My girls! They're not fuckin' groupies! I told you they were comin' tonight. I guess you're just so old, you fuckin' forgot."

_Alan. . . I've heard that name before._

"This is our manager. A shitty one, at that," Axl side-eyes Alan. 

_Oh yeah. Him._

Alan tries to get a word in to defend himself, but Michelle beats him to it, making his jaw snap shut the second she speaks. 

"I'm not pleased to meet you, but I'm Michelle."

"Forgive me-"

"I'm Chasity, and I'm not pleased to meet you either."

I feel Duff's hand clasp my bare shoulder, him forcing his way between Michelle and I. "I think you owe 'em an apology, Alan. We can fire you again. Done it plenty of times before."

Alan appears to sweat, practically quivering underneath Axl and Duff's stone cold gazes, Michelle and I's not far off as well. 

"If I had known, I would've never of said anything like that. I'm sorry," He says, arms raised in defense. "Now can you please go talk to the kid here from Rolling Stone? He's already milked all he can out of Slash, Steven, and Izzy."

Duff doesn't release Michelle and I as we pass through the threshold, officially away from the eyes of the public as we head down a long hall considered backstage, towards the only open door. Familiar voices pour out of it, and at first glance, I'm pretty sure I see Mandy Brixx. 

"Duffy, hi!" 

Her eyes see right past Michelle and I at first, fixated on Duff the second we enter the room. 

The first time I met her, I thought she was insanely beautiful. But today, I think the same thing, only tenfold. The vanity lights behind, and on either side of the room only do her good, blonde hair teased high, eyes popping from her makeup. 

"Hey, Mandy!"

"And Chas and Michelle are here!" She rushes forward, taking me into a hug first. 

"Hi! Happy birthday!"

"Thank you," I smile wide, appreciating her energy. It's a breath of fresh air. 

"Hey, hurry up, Mandy, I've gotta say hi to the birthday girl too!"

I can't complain as Steven steps in, patting me on the back. Even though I'm pretty sure he's drunk based off the beer on him, he's happy just like Mandy. 

"Happy birthday, Chassy! You're so old now, fuck, I can't believe it! Do you feel older?" 

I laugh at Steven's question, which only makes him laugh too. 

"No, I don't. I thought I would, but I've been babied all day," I tell him while I look at Duff. 

Next is Slash's turn, and Izzy's. The two of them seem so out of it already that I'd consider it alarming if I didn't know their history. 

Fading back to observe after we're greeted by the whole room, Michelle and I settle into a corner, across from the one Duff and Axl sit in, with the godforsaken Rolling Stone Guy. 

Alan-who's now nowhere to be found-wasn't kidding when he said he was "the Rolling Stone _kid_."

From all the way over here, I can hear his upbeat tone, one that totally contrasts from Duff and Axl's low commentary that I can't make out. The Kid can't be much older than me. His voice is animated, talking fast while he shoves his tape recorder in Duff and Axl's faces. A bright red Rolling Stone press pass and an expensive camera hang from his neck. He's even wearing a Guns N' Roses t-shirt, the same I have at home. One that was a limited run, something you'd only be able to get if you're like me, in kahoots with the band, or know someone who is. 

It's like watching a kid talk to their idols-how Michelle and I would probably be if we met somebody like Madonna, or Prince. Duff was the one who turned us on to him, years ago. 

"Their livers are going to give out," Michelle comments, tone hushed. "I've been counting."

We witness Duff pour the bottle of Smirnoff that rests on his knee over his clear shot glass, throwing his head back. Axl continues to answer the Rolling Stone Kid's question, neither of them paying any mind. 

"And that's his _fifth_. We've only been in here for ten minutes, Chas."

I recall his earlier words. Duff's promise of getting plastered, basically a cry for help. His way of voicing that he feels out of control, even though he's already halfway through the interview he was worried about, and they're going to take the stage soon. 

My eyes wander around the room, to where Mandy is talking with Izzy. 

_Surely if we both know about Duff, she does too. His worrying. The way he gets through it. Can't she see he's stressed right now?_

All I know is that if it were Axl, I would've been giving him water already, and dumping every vodka bottle in this building down any available drain. 

"What do we do?"

"I mean," Michelle pauses, pursing her lips. "I'd hate to embarass him. Also, what do we really know, Chas? We only see him when he's at home. This is the first time we're stepping in his and everyone else's space, they're not in ours. Maybe this is. . . How he is a lot. I don't doubt it. His stage fright has always been bad. Remember that talent show?"

Duff threw up that day before school, back when we all went to the same one. _Just kids._

"Yeah," I nod, instantly feeling sad as I observe him sighing deeply, hands wrapped tight around his vodka bottle. 

_She's right. It's just a shock to us because we rarely see it. Just because if I had the same amount I'd be passed out doesn't mean he can't handle it. He's an adult, fully formed. Twenty-three, as of this past February. Mandy's probably not seeing anything out of the ordinary._

I even notice Axl frequently sipping what looks like Coca-Cola, but I know there's Jack in it. There's no way there isn't. 

"Tell me why today is turning out to be weird, Michelle."

_Weird as in not what I expected. I don't know why I told myself that all that would happen tonight would be sunshine and rainbows, like a fairytale. We go to the gig, everyone's in high spirits, everything is absolutely wonderful, the show is fantastic. I get a kiss under the stars-I don't know._

_It's all just weird. Off._

Michelle turns her head at me when I rest my own on her shoulder, my eyes craning up into hers. 

When she shrugs, and my head goes up with it, we both laugh. Her trying to cheer me up. 

"Being an adult can't be all fun. Or maybe it can. You tell me, you're the eighteen-year old here."

As a thought occurs to me, one I had earlier, I bypass Michelle's most recent comment. "You know what else?" I'm sure to drop my voice to a whisper, still right beside her ear, my cheek on her spaghetti strap. "I miss Axl. I'm never alone with him. I mean, you've seen him today. He hasn't even spoken to me. I know he really can't with everything there is to risk, but it makes me bummed. . ." 

I can't stop once I've started. 

"I'm always sharing him, with everybody. I'm about to share him with five-hundred people soon, in a matter of minutes. I can't just talk to him whenever I want. _God_ , all I want is his attention, Michelle. I miss him, I constantly do, and I don't even want to fathom that anyone else gets his attention, while I can hardly see him the way I need to. I know that makes me selfish," I admit. "But I'm just sad. It's my party today, and all I want is him."

Michelle grabs at my arm, squeezing me. Bringing me back to Earth. 

It doesn't work. 

My mood sinks like an anchor as I think, eyes moving to where the Rolling Stone Kid laughs at something Axl says.

"Chasity," Michelle sighs, voice teasing. "You're not gonna get any answers by whispering to me, now are you?" 

"You're gonna have to talk to Axl about all that."

"Talk to Axl?" I repeat. 

When trying to imagine that, my mind draws a blank. I can't see anything-because that idea sounds so outlandish. _Talk to_ _Axl?_

I suppose I've become so content with bottling up my feelings and leaving them to rot these past few months, with everything that's happened. 

"Yes, talk to Axl," She murmurs. 

"You make it sound easy," I scoff. "It's not, Michelle. Nothing ever is," I whine, my complaining voice on display.

Michelle doesn't react in any way. Both of our eyes look to where Rolling Stone Kid is frantically shaking Axl and Duff's hands, their interview concluding. 

When she sighs, my head moves with her body once more. "Oh, Chas. I'm so sorry, really. I hope you get to spend time with him tonight. Talk to him. Maybe kiss him, ha! But I'll see what I can do, okay? I want to talk to that guy," She says, referring to Rolling Stone Kid. "And see if there's any openings, an internship, something. Remember all the help I did on the yearbook those couple years?" 

I nod, recalling Michelle's phase with a camera. A lot of her shots of the football team, candids of people on campus, all of them ended up in our school's yearbooks. Her work wasn't bad. In fact, she was really happy about it. I could see her doing that again, except as a living. 

_It's perfect for her, really._

"Maybe I'll flirt with him, butter him up. He seems so dorky, it'll work. And hopefully Duff will want to chaperone, meaning you'll get a few seconds with Mr. Rose, over there."

As much as we annoy each other constantly, Michelle always comes to my rescue. She doesn't even complain now, when I'm positive her shoulder is asleep because of me. 

"Thank you, McKagan. I love you tons, you know that, right?" 

She pats my head once, twice. Gently, just barely. It makes me laugh. "Of course, Chas. I love you too."

I don't get a chance to make another joke, because then, Alan suddenly appears, bursting through the door. 

"They're riled up out there, you guys gotta go!"

What happens next is crazy. 

Slash, Izzy, Duff, and Steven all down the rest of their drinks, like they can't swallow fast enough. Meanwhile, Axl scrambles over to the mirror, looking at himself, fixing his hair, even though it's already perfect. Cigarettes are extinguished, guitars are grabbed. Michelle and I watch it all. 

"Chassy, what should we play?!" Duff's voice is loud over all the commotion. 

"What?! You don't know what you're gonna play?!"

I sound panicked, because I am. Both because of them not having a set list, and I can hear the slur in Duff's voice. _Oh my god._

"We never know," Steven comments. 

"It's your birthday, you pick!" Duff urges. When Alan starts to shuffle Duff towards the door, he gets defensive. "No, Chassy needs to tell me what she wants to hear-"

"Duff, I don't care, just play good, okay?"

_Don't fall over, don't throw up, please. God help him tonight. God help us all._

Out in the hall, we walk quickly. Steven's drumsticks bang loudly against the cinderblock walls. 

"Chas."

I turn to look at Axl, reminding myself that I can't explode right now, in front of everybody, just before he goes onstage. 

_Calm down._

"Yeah?"

"I paid off the security, they're gonna help you and Michelle get in the front row, okay?"

"Okay." 

It's all one big blur as Alan cracks the backstage door just enough for Michelle and I to fit through, to get out into the fray. Two security guards wait outside, the same ones who escort us through the crowd of hundreds, right up to the front of the dark stage. My heart beats fast throughout, intensifying as the cheers and whoops behind and all around us get louder, people impatient. 

It's funny, because when Axl, Duff, Steven, Izzy, and Slash all run out, lights turning on the second the opening riff to "It's So Easy" starts, Michelle and I act as though we're mega-fans. Screaming at the top of our lungs about girls in their Sunday dresses, jumping, dancing. Like we weren't the first people to hear the song after it was written by Duff, like we don't know the band at all. All our cares and worries melt away, everything from just minutes ago. Only the music matters. 

_Like groupies. Maybe Alan was sort of right._

We know all the words, after all. Song after song, the entirety of "Nighttrain", "Anything Goes." Even "Heartbreak Hotel." The band is tight, my fears of too much alcohol or stress not even relevant as they hit every note, every beat, right on time. Each of them are in sync, bodies and minds on the same track. I become positive that anyone, someone, from Mötley's team has already approached Alan, insisting Guns N' Roses become their opening act. I know in my heart that the Rolling Stone Kid is peeing his pants, camera shutter clicking away, already giving each song a score of five stars. 

I feel the heat halfway through "Out Ta Get Me." All the bodies packed into such a small space make it feel like the tropics, a humid heat. Axl must sense it too, combined with the stage lights beating down on him as he moves all over, running and spinning, mic stand in his hands. He stops after the last note plays, peeling his shirt off, throwing it to the ground beside Steven's drum kit. Girls scream, me included. 

"This next song is a new song, and we've never played it live before," Axl's voice echoes into the microphone, deep. "I hope I don't fuck it up, because it's one that's very special to my heart. It'll be on the record, our third single. It's about a girl, of course." 

Axl looks at me for a fleeting moment, long enough for me to catch it.

"I could go on and on about her all night, but the song sums it up, really. Let's hit it." 

I watch Axl's energy shift right before my eyes. His voice was booming earlier, now it's tender, crooning into the microphone. He stands still when he's not swaying around, or leaning on Slash and Izzy as he sings. 

_Sings about me._

Somehow, I manage to get through it without crying, unlike the first time I heard it. On the outside, at least. On the inside, I'm a mess. Losing it, completely. Practically up onstage with Axl, begging him to never let me go while he "oh-oh-oh"'s and calls me his. His Sweet Love, His Sweet Child. 

It's right now, my thoughts overwhelmed, my chest swarming with so many feelings, ready to burst, that I think up a thought I never have before while Axl beams out about Where We Go Now. 

_I love him. I love him, I love him, I love him._

I think it over and over, not stopping, not wavering, even as my song, Sweet Child 'O Mine ends. Not even when Axl uses a white, clean towel to wipe away some of the sweat glistening down his front, on his forehead. Not even as I recognize "Don't Cry." 

_I think I love him. I love Axl._

The rest of the concert, I'm there, but not really. My eyes become glued to Axl, like they're only capable of seeing him. Ears, too. Only hearing him. The rest of the band mellows out, becomes like static, quiet snow. It still allows for me to listen to Axl's howling and screaming and murmuring and moaning and groaning. 

After Rocket Queen, Axl tells the crowd goodnight, that Mötley Crüe will be out shortly. The lights go dim as the band shuffles offstage. The crowd thins, an accordion pressing out, everyone gaining personal space and breathing room again.

It's a wonder how those two security guards find us, but they do. As everyone else heads to the bar, Michelle and I are taken back to the dressing room. I'm quiet the whole way, except for my heart. It's quick, steady thuds don't falter, still going at the same pace they were out there, in the front row. Even as we settle back into our chairs we claimed earlier, chilled water bottles in hand while everyone else picks their poison of choice. 

Everyone except for Axl. 

He stands in front of the mirrored walls, light bulbs catching on his adam's apple as it bobs with each huge swallow he takes. Downing one whole water, then two. Some of it misses his mouth, gliding down his chest, past his sharp jaw. Easing through the muscles of his abdomen, the V of his hips.

Next to those overwhelming thoughts of love come others, ones much more obscene, but I can't stop them just the same. 

_Last time I saw him like this after performing, all messy and shirtless, the only thing I wanted to do was kiss him. But now, if we were alone, I'd want him to take my virginity, like this. Make love to me. Here in this dressing room, backstage. On the night of my eighteenth birthday. I'd beg him to if I could, right now_.

My skin feels hot as my eyes widen, a reaction to hearing my own thoughts.

_I_ _don't even have the guts to tell him something like that. He'd probably laugh at_ _me_. _Not take me seriously as I professed how I think I love him, even if I did just learn so tonight._ Minutes ago.

_I love him. I just know it. I do._

My eyes dart all around the room, looking at everybody in their own groups, talking and drinking. Michelle's left to go see the Rolling Stone Kid out in the hall. It puts me on edge when I realize that I don't see Axl amongst anyone. He's still standing on his own, gaze pinning me down from across the room.

_"You okay?"_

I nod once at Axl's mouthed words, unable to ignore the way his head is tilted slightly, almost in curiosity.

_"Are you sure?"_

I watch him laugh, hear it, too. It makes me nervous.

_"Yes,"_ I insist. I nod again, vigorously now. _Just thinking about what it would be like if you bent me over the couch near you, that's all. . ._

My heart sounds like an alarm, still working ridiculously hard for no reason as I watch Axl maneuver through the room, stepping aside all the people and obstacles in his way. Beer cans, guitars, chairs. Until he ends up beside me, looking down.

"Somethin's going on in here."

Axl softly taps the top of my head two times with his index finger, making me laugh.

"I know it. I'm telling you, I have a sixth sense for these types of things." Axl's smile fades as he shifts towards seriousness, his voice dropping from a normal volume. "What's wrong Chasity Grace, huh? What are you thinkin' about?"

_If the orgasm I had in my sleep would feel the same as the one I'd have in real life._

Unable to even form words, I simply shrug.

Axl pulls up a chair next to mine, before turning to face me, legs spread. His leather covered knee touches the side of my thigh, making me nearly jump.

I have to force myself to look into his eyes the way he is with mine, gather up the courage. _Courage to compose myself._

"Eighteen looks so good on you, honey."

When I don't say anything to that, Axl keeps at it. I let him.

"I swear, you're growing up so fast," He drawls, fingers finding their way back to my hair. "You're so beautiful. Every bit of you. Happy birthday, baby."

"Thank you," I say. My voice practically quivers like my whole body wants to, all my muscles tense so Axl can't see how he makes me. _Weak._

A lock of hair still twirls between his fingers, the gentle tugging spreading up to my scalp. Practically making my thoughts even worse.

_I'd probably let him pull my hair. Michelle says that that's a thing some people like. I think I would if it was Axl doing the pulling._

"Axl?"

"Mhm?" He hums, movements stopping as he looks at me.

_I love you._

"I wanna be alone. With you," I confess. "Right now."

A sly smirk melts onto him at that, sweetness still there underneath it, though. "Aren't we? We're practically invisble."

We both look out at the room, absolutely no one paying any mind to anything.

_Perfect. Absolutely perfect._

"I wanna be even _more_ alone with you." I can't tell if it's the thoughts of love or the thoughts of sex talking. Both, probably. Especially as he sits here, half-naked.

"Please."

Five minutes later, I'm sitting in a fire engine colored booth while Mötley Crüe plays across the club, far away from our corner spot, out of sight.

"One Jack and Coke," Axl tells the waitress over the sounds of Girls, Girls, Girls. "And a Shirley Temple."

The second the waitress is gone, I'm scooting closer to Axl. My hands grip the sparkly tabletop as the backs of my mostly bare thighs drag along the leather, inching my way into Axl's space. I'm only satisfied when I'm close enough to be attached at his hip.

That's when I slide my arms around his neck, pressing a kiss there, the first kiss in such a long time. And then another, on his jaw. His skin smells like musk, the good kind. I practically get drunk off of it, all of him.

_I'm kissing him in public, and it's fine. For the very first time._

I don't protest when Axl takes my chin in his hand, bringing my mouth to his without a word. I clutch onto the hem of the t-shirt he wears again, groaning against his tongue as it eases along mine.

While Axl pulls back to breathe for a second, we both realize that the waitress is setting down our drinks. That she has been, for a few seconds now.

It makes me laugh as I watch Axl's disorientation play out. My own head spinning as he mumbles a "thank you" that he can hardly speak.

When he grins warmly at me, I do the same back before grabbing at the fizzy, pink glass in front of me, taking a sip. Lemon-lime soda mixed with bright grenadine syrup. Something I've only had a few times, a drink my papa used to make Shawn and I when we were little and would visit New York. What I told Axl I wanted the second we sat down.

"You know," I pick up the maraschino cherry that rests on an ice chip, biting it off the stem. "I can tie these."

Axl pauses, his glass pressed against his lower lip like he's about to drink. His teeth are pearly white as he grins, instantly thinking I'm bluffing.

I can just tell.

"I'll show you, give me a second," I laugh before swallowing a big gulp of my Shirley Temple, a wave of nostalgia hitting me. I pop the cherry stem into my mouth, concentrating hard.

_Just because I said I can, doesn't mean I do often. It's been years._

I catch Axl staring at me as I manuver my tongue, trying to remember the muscle memory I had built up back when I discovered my aptitude for this party trick. With Michelle, in an ice cream parlor. We were fifteen, eating banana splits. She dared me, and by the grace of God, I figured it out. It's a wonder I didn't tell anyone, really.

Axl's look is smug as he watches me. I don't take my eyes away from his as I finally smile, stem between my teeth. In a _knot._

He lights up, instantly. Eyes wide, like he's just watched magic or something. "Holy shit-"

"I told you, didn't I?" I throw the stem down onto the table, in front of us.

Axl oogles at it. "Baby, that's the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"Oh, shut up."

"It is! I swear to God-fuck, I didn't know you could do _that_."

"You do now," I smile around my straw, feeling coy. _For once, I'm surprising him._

Axl swoops me up then, wrapping his warm arms around me, practically bringing me into his lap. Vince Neil screams in the background, crowd following suit as we kiss. It's almost as if they're cheering for us. At me, for my bravery.

_The rest of Axl's band is in this building, right now. Any of them could see us, stumble by. And yet, I don't care. I can't._

The flavors of my sweetness meddle with Axl's bitter jack and coke through the open-mouthed kisses. It's _saccharine_ -makes my heart swoon. This is all I've wanted, all day. Exactly what I was thinking of while I was whining with Michelle earlier.

_No presents. No cake. Just Axl._

When I peck Axl's cheek, he squeezes my waist tighter, sighing. A content sigh. I can tell.

"You're so bad, Chas."

Giggles leave me as I bury my face in his neck, in his hair. "I know."

_If only_ _you_ _actually knew, Axl._

I grip Axl's shoulders tighter while trying to ignore the fantasy I concocted earlier as it comes back, flooding me. The one about the dressing room.

"I feel like a sinner in church," I confess, eyes shut.

Axl's laugh reverberates in his chest as he pets my hair. The vibrations spread through my flesh, into my veins. It goes right to my heart, instantly.

"You're _my_ little sinner in church," He affirms, still laughing. "But don't you worry, baby. There ain't nobody around to see us."

"Thank Christ."

"Amen."

I'm not sure how long we spend in our small world. Enough time for Axl to order a second drink, me to down the rest of my shirley temple. To kiss, a lot more. My mind races. _I love him. I want to be even closer. Even more alone._ My inner voice is so loud as Axl holds me against him tightly.

"It hurt, but it wasn't too bad," He says in regards of his tattoo, the same one I noticed hours ago.

I hold his forearm, tanned skin between both my hands. With it still being so new, it's red on the edges, skin still adjusting. I run a finger over each end of the purple and yellow cross, where every member of Guns N' Roses is represented by themselves as skulls. Axl is the center, Slash below, Izzy above, Duff and Steven on either side. A waving, yellow banner hangs over them all, reading " _GUNS N' ROSES"._

It's official, no matter what happens. The band is eternal now. Like a blood oath, right here on Axl's arm.

"It's gonna be the album cover. Geffen's already approved it. They're sending the design to the factories on Monday," Axl goes on, hushed.

"I love it," I tell him. "I do. But why is Slash's hair straight?"

The two of us laugh, it filling me up.

"'Cause the guy who did it was afraid he would fuck up Slash's curls! Man, I was scared after he told me that. But do you really like it? Do you think I made the right choice?"

"Absolutely," I confirm. "I love it. It looks so good on you. I love all your tattoos. Even miss Monique," I poke the woman on his bicep, smiling. "And I know that it'll look just as good as the album cover."

Axl takes himself out of my hold, only to lace his hand with mine. When his face gets real close, I know he's about to say something serious.

"That means a lot to me, Chas. You always believe in me, in the band. Thank you, honey."

"It's my pleasure."

Axl throws down a ten on the table once we get up after I badger him about needing to go to the ladies' room.

"You really don't have to go with me, Axl," I shout over the sound of Vince Neil saying goodnight to the audience. "I can find it. I don't want you to lose the table-"

"I'm not lettin' you wander around all alone, honey. It's fine. C'mon."

I can't help but feel like a baby as I let Axl lead me about thirty steps away, right outside the men and women's bathrooms. The general area is incredibly crowded, people going in and out of both doors, passing by to get to the bar area. It's chaotic, sure, but nothing that's too much. I just nod as Axl tells me he'll wait for me right where he stands, against a wall.

Inside the bathroom, the air is smoky. Cigarettes are lit and women stand talking. Some wait in line for stalls to become vacant, like me. Others are at the three sinks, crowding around. Fixing their hair, makeup, outfits.

After washing my hands, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, among all these women in their high heels and tight dresses and painted faces and long nails.

Next to them, I look like a little girl. Small, standing out, only because of how plain I present in comparison. My hands pick at the black cotton stretching over my arms, below my shoulders, pulling them up a little. Rubbing at a few mascara flakes, the redness etching my cheeks that won't go away, the flush from my imagination and Axl's touch. Patting at my chocolate colored hair, it being no use with how big and wavy and frizzy it always seems to be, the concert air making it worse than when I left the house earlier.

But still, even in here, where there's no traces of men-Axl-in sight, nothing to do with him, really, my brain can't stop with it's insisting, it's newfound belief that it whispers to me like a prayer.

_I love him. I love Axl._

I carefully manuver my way around the room, trying to get out so I can go back to him. In a rush, even though I know he's not impatient. At least not now. He isn't going anywhere.

_I miss him. It's been five minutes, and I already wish I was back in his arms-_

"Oh, sorry!"

On my way out of the bathroom, the red swinging door nearly hits me in the face, my feet jumping backwards my only saving grace.

The culprit is a girl with blonde hair that's slick straight. It practically sticks to her head, her eyes a dark brown. I think to myself that she's beautiful, in a way I rarely see. She wears no makeup it seems, eyes just naturally wide, teeth white as she smiles.

"Sorry!"

Her accent takes a moment to register, one I've only ever heard on T.V. before. _British_.

My eyes also fall onto her shirt, the same Guns N' Roses one Rolling Stone Kid and I both own.

It takes less than two seconds for me to notice all these things, the same amount of time it takes for us to maneuver around each other, her heading in, me heading out.

_She's obviously not from here, not with that accent, but yet she has a t-shirt less than a hundred L.A. residents own. Strange. . ._

I wonder about it, mind floundering back and forth from possibilities on the manner of that girl until I realize that Axl isn't in sight, despite how much I scan back and forth, my head turning in every single direction.

"Looking for somebody?"

Anything I was about to say goes out my head and splat onto the wall beside me as I look up.

Nikki Sixx's perfect smile flashes, his dark eyelashes batting as he looks at me.

I gulp, not prepared for this, despite having had hours to potentially gather my thoughts. I don't even think, really, as I stare at his spiky hair and tanned face.

"Uhm, oh my gosh! I'm a really big fan of your newest album, that's embarassing to say, but it's true, I am, and I know that you're the main writer for the band, for Mötley Crüe. You're so talented!"

At first I feel stupid, dumb as I blurt it out, my brain mush from all the events of the night, and it not even being over. But when Nikki's face lights up, gasping, I forget.

"Awh, that's so cool!"

_Oh my god. Duff is such a liar! Axl, too, even though I love him. Nikki_ is _nice_. _He's cool! What were they even talking about when they said we shouldn't go near them?_

"What's your name?"

"I'm uhm-" _Not Axl's girlfriend, I can't tell him that, I can't tell anyone. Not Duff's sister, that makes me seem lame._ "I know the band. Guns N' Roses. I'm Chasity."

"Yeah, me too! I'm Nikki, by the way, even though you already know that. Did you watch the show? They're pretty sick, right?"

That makes me remember what Duff said, about possibly getting the chance to tour with Nikki's band.

"Oh! You know what? I know I just met you and all, but I really think that your band and Guns N' Roses would do so well together on a tour! The crowd you guys pulled in together tonight is _crazy_ ," I say as I have to dodge a couple of guys who stumble past, their plastic cups full of beer sloshing over the sides, onto the floor. "I'm not sure if you've heard any of the studio material from their first album yet, but they've all come up with some really great, fresh songs that I feel like you could appreciate, being a dedicated musician yourself. I'm a bit biased," I tell Nikki, looking away from his face as I go on. "I'm _very_ close with the band, but really, they'd just compliment the Crüe so well on a tour. . ."

For some reason, my voice trails off the second I look back to Nikki, eyes transfixed on him as he does a full body scan on me. Everything from the white tips of my shoes to the top of my head. It's blatant-he doesn't try to be subtle as his head moves with his gaze. Like he hasn't even been trying to pay attention to me, at all.

"When you say you're 'close,'" Nikki says as he takes a step in, looking down at me now. "Do you mean you're dating one of them?"

"What the hell are you doing with my girl, Nikki?"

Axl's voice makes the wind knock out of my chest. It's loud and aggressive over the rock music playing over the speakers. The same voice he uses during It's So Easy. The intimidating one.

Axl steps in front of me, forcing himself in front of Nikki, acting as a human shield.

"All I did was ask if she's fucking one of you," Nikki laughs. "I've never seen her before. She looks like you plucked her right out of the local highschool. She's cute, though."

_All I wanted was to tell Nikki that I liked his album, and try to secure the band a spot on their tour. That was it. Now look._

Nikki peers at me over Axl's shoulder, who's now snapping back at him.

"She's none of your fucking business."

The situation both escalates and dimishes the second Vince Neil joins his band mate, walking up like he's in a hurry.

"Hey, Nik! The girls are waitin' out back in the limo!"

Vince puts an arm around Nikki, attempting to pull him away from the scene. It doesn't work, not on the bassist of the band. He looks back at me once, twice, three times as Vince walks him off. He even _winks_.

That sets Axl off.

"Keep him in _fuckin_ ' line Vince, or we're gonna have problems!"

The lead singer just laughs, pushing Nikki ahead of him. "Wouldn't want that, now would we? See you, Axl!"

It's not long before they're gone in the crowd, not visible to the eye anymore.

I'm still processing the entirey of what just happened when Axl starts to interrogate me.

"Where the hell were you, Chas?!"

"I could ask you the same thing! I was looking for you."

Then Axl begins to pull _me_ away with him, by my waist. He presses me into his side, his own version of a leash.

"Where are we going?! Don't follow them, please, Axl-"

"We're leaving," Axl grumbles, footsteps picking up in speed. He disregards anyone in the way as we barrel through the crowd. "Before I rip Nikki's _fucking_ head off-"

"What about everyone else?! We came in Duff's van-"

"My car's in the parking lot, Izzy and Steve drove it here and I've got the keys. So don't you worry about it, baby-"

"I am worrying about it, Axl. You need to calm down-"

Axl stops then, staring down at me as he shouts. "I can't calm down, Chas! I won't, not until you're far, far away from any other men, from fucking _Nikki!"_

I can't even try to reason with him, not as he makes a beeline for the double doors, taking me right with him.

The line is still long outside as Axl makes us hurry past it, holding my hand now. It's a total contrast to the independence and freedom I felt less than half an hour ago, back in that booth with him. Before Nikki Sixx had to hit on me.

_Nikki Sixx hit on me. He actually did. He called me cute._

I can hardly process it, let alone know how to feel. _Not attraction, that's for sure. I love Axl. Even now, as he still mutters about how he still wants to make Nikki bleed_ _._

I have to squeeze my lips together tight, almost wishing I had a needle and thread on me to really make sure I don't say anything else stupid, or try to get him to calm down.

_Like how he's the only one who does anything for me. How I only care about him. That he shouldn't even worry about what Nikki did. Yeah, it makes my skin crawl a ljttle, but I don't like him. All I need is Axl. All I want is Axl. And isn't that what's_ _important?_

I can feel the night breeze across my bare shoulders as we walk through the parking lot, looking for the Camaro.

Well really, Axl is, and I'm just trying to keep up.

It only annoys him further, not knowing where his car is. Every parking spot is taken, and it's dark, no streelights nearby. But sure enough, despite Axl's swearing and sighing, he finds it.

The locks to the passenger's side click loudly as Axl turns the key, before opening up the door. I get in with no protests.

It's silent after he loudly slams his door, the sounds of the Strip distant behind all the metal and glass surrounding us.

I look to the dash as I open my mouth, knowing that I shouldn't, but I do it anyways.

"I just don't know why you're so upset," I shake my head, recalling what I thought just a moment ago. "I don't care about Nikki Sixx. Yeah, I listen to his music, but I don't care about him. Not like how I care about you. Really, you should know by now that you make me insane, Axl," I confess. "I can hardly function when I'm around you because of what you do to me, and-and you've hardly even done _anything_ -"

I demonstrate my words as I feel Axl's lips against my cheek, one of his hands moving over my leg, into my lap. My breath gets heavy, immediately. The entire atmosphere in the car shifts, and my head clouds over, surprise and desire filling me all at once. Unsure of what's about to happen, but wanting it nonetheless. _Oh my god._

"Don't stop," Axl urges deeply, nipping at my lower lip.

On command, I let the rest spill out.

"I'm yours, Axl," I breathe. "I think about it all the time, how I just want to be yours, and be as close to you as I possibly can- _God_ -"

I watch Axl unbutton my jean shorts with one hand, using his thumb and index finger to unhook the denim. In my hair, I feel his other hand stretching the strands, running through them. "You wanna be mine, baby?"

"Yes. _Yes_."

"You _are_ mine. All mine." Axl rasps.

He kisses me sloppy, hand in my hair gripping so tight it makes me cry out at the same exact instant his whole other hand dives into my shorts, making my legs spread far apart.

"Oh God," I grab at his wrist as I look down, the sight so foreign it makes me wonder if this is just a dream. Another one, except it already feels so much better-it's _real_. His hand is warm and huge right over my core, pressing into me.

The laugh that leaves Axl is dark. "That's right," He grunts, fingers moving on top of lace, the only thing in between him and I. "I haven't even done anything yet, and you're already a mess. I can feel how wet you are, baby."

"Please. Please, Axl."

My head falls back against the seat as he leans over me, tongue running over my lower lip and kissing me all over. At the same time, I feel his touch where I never have before, rubbing me, making my hips buck against his hand.

"I'm gonna make you cum, baby, for the first time. Right here, in this parking lot. You're gonna scream so loud that every fuckin' guy is gonna know that you're mine."

I moan loud as tingles spread through my whole body at Axl's words. The pure filth he speaks into existence, words I've never heard him say out loud before. _Absolutely dirty._

"Please," I repeat over and over into his mouth, in between kisses. My nails dig into his muscled forearm, right into the new tattoo.

Somehow, Axl pulls back from my mouth the exact second I begin to feel overwhelmed. He sits up, watching me writhe before him, hand still working out of sight.

I stare into his eyes through heavy lids as pleasure explodes in my middle, racing through my legs, pouring into my shouts and moans. Gushing out, onto Axl's fingers.

When he tugs them up, out of my shorts, I can hardly process the sight of him sucking his own fingers, groaning loud as he does it. Shocks still run through me, whimpers falling out of my mouth as Axl's eyes flutter shut, tongue running down his index finger.

"You taste so good, baby. Just as sweet as you look when I make you cum."

My mind still has trouble catching up as I taste myself on Axl's lips and mouth. I feel swamped with the pleasure-pleasure of all of it. It makes my legs tremble more than they already were, the phantom feeling of Axl's hand on my body, his lips, his smell. Him, all of him.

_I love him. I love Axl._

"Happy birthday, baby."


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chas's first day on the job, soft!Axl, and a new face :)

"I can't, Axl."

"Yes you can, Chas."

"I'm scared."

"Don't be scared, baby. There's nothing to be afraid of."

My knuckles are bright white, wrapped around the steering wheel of the Camaro. I can hardly see over the dash, and the hood that stretches on forever. Even in park, I can feel the engine humming steadily. How powerful this car is. _A deathtrap, with me behind the wheel._

Axl sits where I normally am, in the passenger's. He doesn't wear a seatbelt.

"I can't drive to my casting. It's too far," I protest. "I don't want to. I don't wanna crash."

When Axl offered to let me drive his expensive, fast, goregous car that was made the year I was born, I wasn't going to say no. I figured it would be up the street and back. Material for him to use when making fun of me and my wide turns. Nothing else.

Not a full on driving lesson, even though my test is this week. _Not_ him coaching me on how to not crash.

_Up the street, then back._

The look on Axl's face is one of disbelief. "You think you're gonna crash my car?"

"Mhm," I nod, without a doubt. So much money. _Practically every bit of his share of the Geffen contract. Gone. . ._

"No, you won't," Axl replies simply.

"Yes I will, Axl-"

"You're a good driver, Chassy. You've impressed me. You can do it! And don't you have to be there by two?" Axl points to the clock on the dash. "It's one. You're gonna be late. And that guy, the one you think is ' _expensive_ ', what's his name? He's gonna be mad at you-"

"His name is _Paul,_ and why can't you just drive? I like watching you drive. Please, Axl. Don't make me do this," I plead, desperation in my voice. My fingers feel numb as I tighten my grip with how uneasy I feel.

_The freeway. Traffic. Stop signs. Parallel parking._ _Cops._

" _You_ like watchin' _me_ drive? _I_ like watchin' _you_ drive, honey." Axl leans over, grinning as he pushes my hair out of his way. His nose brushes against my cheek as he kisses the corner of my mouth. "You get that look on your face when you drive-the same one you get when you're thinking about _sex_."

"I-I do not-"

"Yeah," He breathes, air fanning out over my cheek. "You do."

Without another word, I shift the car into drive, easing down onto the gas.

"Good girl. You're gonna want to keep straight, till we hit the-"

"Freeway. I know," I side eye him, but only for a second. My tightly wound hands cramp, but I don't relax my grip. It's the only thing keeping me from becoming a quivering mess while going thirty miles an hour.

That ' _good girl'_ echoes through my head, shooting right to my heart. _And between my legs._

I try to focus on the road, I really do. Even though every revolution of the wheels means that I'm closer and closer to my first modeling gig.

"I'm scared," I repeat after I've already merged onto the freeway. 

"You're doing just fine baby-"

"Not about driving anymore. I'm scared that I'm going to do horrible at this thing. I don't even know what's gonna happen." I shake my head in disbelief, eyes glued to the road. A frown makes my lips droop at the corners.

Axl doesn't offer anything up to that. He's too busy telling me to speed up and pay attention as we get further onto the highway. It's packed with cars, the way it always is.

"I _am_ paying attention, Will! You're stressing me out."

"You're already so wound up to begin with, I doubt it's all my fault. See-Look, Chasity! You need to _merge_! And use your signals, how else are people supposed to know what you're doin'?"

I hold up one hand in defense, as if to block his words. I don't want to hear it. "I already tried to tell you that I don't know what I'm doing! And you still don't have a seatbelt on."

Right as I successfully get over, I hear a quiet click beside me. That makes me ease up, but only a little bit. Axl says nothing, which also helps.

It takes no effort on my part to locate the actual street and building hosting the casting. I tell Axl to grab the piece of paper with my looped handwriting from my purse, and of course, he knows where to go.

I've lived here my whole life and can't tell you how to get anywhere outside the five mile stretch from my parent's house. But Axl? He knows these streets like the back of his hand. Every single one.

When I successfully park at the address on the paper, I don't even need Axl to confirm that we're at the right place.

There's girls everywhere.

Ones getting in and out of cars, crossing the street, on the phone. It's funny, because they all kind of look the same.

_We_ all look the same.

Long hair, tall, skinny, kind of awkward. The same pair of Jordache jeans on each of us, with a white t-shirt tucked in. The attire all our agents told us to wear. Carrying some variation of a folder, no doubt holding headshots each of us obtained from our respective agencies.

The best part is that I see my face reflected back to me, even from here, where I sit in Axl's car still. The fear. The uncertainty, painted on everyone. Even on the girls that are smiling or laughing together. I see it in their shoulders and the grip on their bags. In their fidgeting with their hair, or the stray hem on their top.

The clock on the dash reads two. I'm late. I contemplate not getting out of the car. Climbing into the back seat, begging Axl to drive me home like a little kid.

Or worse. Allowing myself to throw up right here, onto the sidewalk. Crying, the tears not even ruining anything but my day since I wasn't allowed to wear any makeup to this thing.

My hands start to shake as I let them fall into my lap, looking up at Axl for a moment. He observes me, probably waiting for me to get a move on.

I silently beg him to take care of me. To comfort me, to hold me. To realize that I'm scared, that I have no idea what I'm about to walk into. That I need him. _That I love him._

I nearly do cry, but from relief as both his hands cup the sides of my face, making my eyes meet his. I let him hold my head in his hands, my cheeks so squished I can't do or say anything. 

Axl smiles his softest grin at me. "You're going to be just fine, Chasity. You're gonna go in there and be perfectly okay. Amazing. And if they don't pick you? It's their loss." Axl makes a face, as if he doubts that they won't pick me. "You're beautiful. You're my beautiful girl."

He presses a gentle kiss to my pouty lips, and I feel my eyes water as they flutter shut. My hands come up to rest on top of Axl's, which are still on my face.

_I love you, Axl. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you so much-_

"And I'm going to be thinking about you for hours," Axl presses his nose against mine, staring into my eyes. "Even more than I usually do. So you better call me later and tell me what happened, okay?"

"Okay," I say.

"Duff should be here on time to get you. You said four, right?"

"That's when Paul said I should be done."

"Okay. I'll remind him when I see him."

I take that as my cue to go. That I can't continue to let Axl stall for me by making me absolutely geek out over him.

My mind starts up again when I feel his hand grab my wrist, just before I gather up my pictures and purse.

_I love you Axl. I love you._

"Bye, baby. I'm so proud of you."

Axl seals his words with a kiss, making them stick.

I can't help it when I beam at him. "Bye, Axl. Thank you!"

He doesn't drive off until I wave at him just steps from the revolving door, about to head inside.

The cool air actually isn't so cool as I step into the marble lobby, every square inch packed with girls.

It's easy to find Paul among them, though.

"Chasity Grace! Hi!"

His pearly white teeth and bronze skin glow under the chandeliers as he makes his way through the crowds of people. He looks just as he did the last time I saw him, his clothes simple and stylish, single earring dangling.

"There she is- _late_ -but still looking like the next best thing out there!" Paul gives me a one-armed hug, careful of the headshots in my other hand. "I want to introduce you to Frances Hill. She's also one of mine, and this is her fourth casting so far. You two are going to be good friends."

The girl I hadn't even realized was behind Paul waves at me, and immediately, I feel as though I've seen her before. She's tall-much taller than me. Even more slim, her cheekbones high. Her hair is the opposite of mine. It's pin straight, and blonde. And _long._ So long, that it nearly reaches her butt. Her eyes are big, and remind me of Twiggy. 

"I'm Frances, hi!" Her voice comes out delicate and in a British accent, taking me by surprise.

"I'm Chasity. Everybody calls me Chas, though."

Paul doesn't give us another second before he's ushering us both away with him.

"Frances should be called in before you, Chasity. But I want to make sure you're both there. I know the casting director and she said that if she gets a chance she can call you both early, so we're already late."

Once we're in a packed elevator, I start to really wonder where I've seen Frances before. I keep looking over Paul, who's in between us both. Once, twice, a third time. Almost compulsively, like I _must_ figure out where I've seen her before.

"I'm sorry. . . I just, I know I've seen you somewhere-"

"At the Guns N' Roses gig a few weeks ago? I thought you looked familiar too!"

That sparks my memory immediately. " _Yes!_ Oh my God, yes! That's where I've seen you. I thought you were so goregous coming into that bathroom!"

Other girls turn slightly in the elevator to look at us, Paul included, but I don't care. I think I really have just made a friend.

Once the elevator stops, Paul is pushing us through to the front, out to a long hallway.

"You brought heels, right?" Paul asks me.

"Yeah," I nod. They've been in my bag this whole time, weighing it down so much my shoulder hurts.

"Good."

It's like we just barely made it, because then a woman is stepping out from a huge doorway at the end of the hall, calling out Frances' name from the clipboard in her hand.

Paul gives her a small hug before taking her bag, and I tell her good luck. She smiles before walking away, pictures in hand, heels already on. Like she knows what she's doing.

_I like her already,_ I think.

The panic of what's about to happen truly sets in now that I have nothing to distract me.

Paul makes me sit down in one of the chairs lining the barren hallway, and I immediately begin to fidget. I change my shoes, getting my foot into the five inch stilettos I practiced walking in all last night. Then, I flip through my own portfolio, the thing consisting of a couple pages. All of them pictures of me, taken at Elite headquarters the same day I signed my contract last week.

I stare blankly at the camera in the first photo, fresh faced and standing tall. My measurements are listed on the side of the picture, numbers that I heard Paul arguing with his boss about before I completed any paperwork.

_"Not good enough. . . She's too. . . Too small. Everywhere, except her hair. Curves are in, not ironing boards."_

_"I'm telling you, you will regret this for the rest of your career if we don't sign her today. She looks like Gia. She could be_ bigger _than Gia! Even if she is lanky. Even if she isn't five-foot ten. The girl is still growing! She's eighteen. She's going to be a National treasure in a few years, I promise you. . ."_

Paul's words that day made me realize that this whole thing wasn't just some twisted mall scam. That even though we haven't known each other long, he believes in me.

The way he speaks to me makes me realize that he probably knows me better than I think. He knows I'm scared shitless.

"I've told you the _procedure_ , Chasity Grace."

He says procedure as if this is going to be invasive.

_Oh god._

"You just go in there and answer any questions they have. Hell, they might even ask you about the damn weather! But regardless, you be yourself. And you've got it. You've just got to show them _it_."

"I don't even know what _it_ is!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frances's faceclaim is Kate Moss! Hope you liked this one 💕


	31. Chapter 31

In the three hours that I've known her, Frances Hall has proven to be somebody I _definitely_ need to be friends with.

"Oh. My. God. Bloody _hell."_ Frances looks faint as she stares at me, dumbfounded. "You're lying."

"No," I shake my head, getting a total kick out of the current situation. "I do know the band. I used to play outside in the summer with Duff when we were little. We're super close. And-and I uhm, I know Axl really well, all the guys, actually. . ."

Frances leans her head back against the building, the same one we were just in for hours. Paul's already taken off, but that was only after we assured him we'd get to where we need to be next just fine. Other girls walk by almost constantly, with how the open casting call is going on all day.

" _Woah,"_ Frances breathes, eyes wide. "The whole reason I started following them was because of a stupid boyfriend I got on my first trip here, to L.A. Actually, it was my first trip to America. That was nearly a year and a half ago. But anyway- he took me to a show, and there was maybe thirty other people there, but I was smitten. I really was. They're so talented! People don't normally peg me for the rock n' roll type, but it makes me feel so alive. My mom saw the Stones once, and she said Mick Jagger winked at her. I think that's where I get it from. . ."

I lose my concentration on Frances as I see Duff's van pull up. He's not late-I was early. Fran (as she's allowed me to call her) and I were both done at the same time, nearly half an hour ago.

"You're going to love this." I grin widely at Fran, throwing the strap of my purse over my shoulder. "C'mon."

I grab her hand, pulling her from where she leans against the concrete wall. Both of our heels are loud against the ground, but not louder than Duff's music. Or Frances' panicking. Her quiet shrieks make me laugh to myself.

It's funny, watching Duff watch me march Fran up to the passenger side window. He cocks an eyebrow at me, as if to say _"Who's that?"_

"Hi Duff! I want you to meet Frances Hall. She's a big fan of the band!"

It's even more funny to watch Duff sit up a little taller, a smirk coming over his lips the second Frances starts to ramble. He's flattered.

"-Absolutely wonderful! I can't wait to buy the album, and hopefully see you all live again soon," Frances gushes. She's totally red in the face.

I look from her to Duff, my eyes flickering quickly to take it all in.

"Oh yeah? Well how about you come to our release party," Duff proposes. "This Saturday at eight. We're taking over that big warehouse near Sunset and Fairfax for it."

My own jaw drops a little at that, but not nearly as much as Frances'.

_An album release party? And no one told me?!_

"I'll be there!" Frances nods. Her eyes land on me, expression surprised, like she forgot I was even here. "Well, I better get going! It was such a pleasure, Chasity. Bless Paul for introducing us! And bye, Duff!"

Duff says goodbye, but it gets lost amidst Frances hugging me tight. She pulls me into her chest as if we've known each other forever. I appreciate it, an uncontrollable smile overtaking me.

"Bye, Frances. Don't lose my number, call me anytime!" I wave at her as she walks off, her doing the same when she turns back.

The passenger side door creaks as I open it, hopping in beside Duff. It makes the same long, loud groan as I shut it, dropping my bag to the floor beside my feet after I pull my heels off. I let out a sigh of relief at that, considering how worried I was about blisters.

When I look up, I see Duff eyeing me expectantly. Curiously.

"What?" I mumble. _His eyes are so big. So hazel. They're scaring me._

That's when he explodes. "How was it, honey? What happened? How are you? How'd you meet her-"

"Frances."

" _Frances._ "

"Her agent is my agent, Paul. And honestly, if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't of survived today," I admit.

I see a look cross him, one full of worry. I'm not sure what to do-console him, or assure him that he's right to freak out?

 _It_ was _terrible_ , _aside from Frances. It was so scary. Why play it off?_

I sigh, letting my shoulders slump back against the leather. My muscles relax for the first time today. Since being with Axl, at least.

"I don't know how it went, Duff."

I don't look at him, but I know that he's still trying to keep himself together. I can hear it in his voice, amidst the confusion.

"What?"

"I don't know anything," I repeat. "Paul said he'd call with the news once there's a decision."

Beside me, I see Duff's demeanor also slump. I keep my eyes glued to the windshield, my vision fuzzy, not focused on anything.

He doesn't ask anything else from me, but I decide to tell him anyway.

_All of it._

"God, Duff. I thought I was going to throw up when they called my name. Paul had to help me out of my chair because I couldn't move. Frances was already gone, they called her in before me. It was like I went deaf. I couldn't hear anything, my heart was beating so fast. Once I got in there, they made me do a walk, like I was on a runway. I didn't fall, but my legs felt like jelly. Then I spoke to the casting directors, and I found out that I was auditoning for _New York_ _F_ _ashion Week._ FUCKING FASHION WEEK!"

"Uh. . . What-what is that?"

"It's one of the most important times of the year. There's a week in February, and a week in September where a ton of fashion people get together to look at clothes, and go to parties, and everyone who's anyone in the fashion industry is there. I just learned that ten minutes ago, when I yelled at Paul for not even telling me what he brought me here for. He told me that he was afraid I would freak out ahead of time, and honestly, he was right for not telling me. But _still_. I figured it wasn't something as important as Fashion Week! Something small, something local. But _no._ I just auditioned for Fashion Week. In New York City. In September. Which is so soon. Barely two months away."

"Isn't that like, a lot of money?"

"Yeah. A ton, depending on how many designers want me. Paul said I could get one show to walk in, I could get five. I could get ten. I could get _none._ So much money! Money that I really, _really_ need, too."

I think that was the biggest factor in my decision to actually contact Paul after that day at the mall. _Money._ I have none. Sure, money from birthdays and Christmases and from my father when he gets a large advance on a case and he feels generous enough to hand me a twenty. But a steady cash flow? God, I need it. I've never even had a job before. My first generation parents have always been against it.

_"You're in school, Chasity. We've had to work since we were kids. So did our parents. Our whole lives. We want more for you. Just be a kid."_

But boy, do I need a job now. I've graduated. I'm eighteen. I need a car. I need to move out of my parent's house, make them proud of me. Michelle and I have always talked about sharing a cool, trendy apartment together. And if I'm actually going to be a model, I'm going to need clothes and shoes and bags. I need to actually fit the part.

If I can even do this, that is. If I even get a call back. If Paul's boss doesn't hate me enough to rip up the contract I just barely signed. If the powers of the Universe and time and space are on my side. If I'm meant to model at all.

And I really hope so. I want to see Frances again, Paul too.

If not, I don't know what I'm going to do with myself. It's funny how your entire life can ride on one decision.

I feel my eyes prickle, and that's when Duff squeezes my hand.

"You will get a call back, honey," He insists. "You'll be gallivanting around with all those fashion people in no time! I can already see it. You blowing me off because you're too busy wearing fancy clothes and shit. This is too perfect for you to not get it. Besides, you've always been _high maintenance._ "

I narrow my eyes at Duff as he snickers, his face getting red.

"Oh, please. You spend more time doing your hair than I do!"

"Actually, Michelle takes longer than the two of us combined. And speaking of her," Duff squints at the clock before looking afraid. "We're late to pick her up. Fuck."

"Pick her up from where?" I ask while pulling the thick seatbelt over my middle.

Duff peels out his parking spot after looking around to make sure he doesn't hit any models.

"From the _Rolling Stone_ office."

That jogs my memory. "Oh yeah, that's today, isn't it? Wow," I nod. "Michelle got a job at _Rolling Stone._ She said she would, and she did. Just like that."

That girl amazes me. I wish I could be more like her sometimes. More sure of myself, I guess. She makes things happen so easily. Everything she has her heart set on, she gets.

"I know," Duff breathes, hardly able to believe it too. "I knew she had a trick up her sleeve when she asked me to talk to that Kid. She had him wrapped around her finger in five minutes. The poor guy called his _boss_ right there in the dressing room. You should've seen it, Chas. It was insane."

That's when I watch the gears turn in Duff's head. I know what's coming, but I still can't come up with a lie fast enough.

"Where did you even go? I didn't see you for the rest of the night. I mean, it's all kind of fuzzy, I don't remember much, but still. . ."

"I uh, I was watching Motley Crue. They were great, I really think it was a good choice to have both of you guys be on a lineup together."

As Duff drives, his brow furrows. "Yeah, but how did you get home? Did you even go home? Did you sleep at our place? I don't remember driving. I literally don't remember seeing you at all."

_Don't tell him about Axl. Don't tell him that he didn't see you because Axl was making you cum in his front seat out in the parking lot_ _, his hand shoved down your shorts-_

"You know, it was all a blur for me too, and I was sober! But um, Axl drove me home really quick, he insisted, especially because it was still somewhat early in the night, and traffic wasn't too bad yet. I was kinda tired anyway. Being at the barrier was a lot. . ."

I trail off when I see Michelle waiting on the sidewalk in a black blazer over her t-shirt and jeans. She looks pissed. I telepathically thank her for providing as a subject changer, the perfect distraction from my terrible, terrible lie.

 _The truth is that Axl did drive me home, but I honestly don't know how, when I was practically in his lap the whole way. Kissing him, wishing he'd touch me more. But he's a_ tease. _Not even five minutes after he made me scream, made me shake and have my first real orgasm, he was pulling out of the parking lot. He still had his hand down my pants._ _A tease_. _Ugh._

But nobody needs to know that. Michelle might suspect something happened, but if so, she hasn't shared any theories _._

She especially doesn't now, as she slams the sliding door of the van as hard as she can after getting in the back.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Duff exclaims, turning around in his seat. He gives me the same look he gave her. The expectant one. The curious one. But he seems more careful this time around.

Michelle's shoulders are straight, rigid. She has on a total bitch face. She doesn't break it, not even when I speak.

"Hi! I missed you today."

Nothing.

Duff tries again. "Did 'ya get _fired_? On the first day?"

She cracks then. Explodes.

"No!" She scowls, as if that's an insane thing to say. But then, she softens completely, her voice dropping. "Nothing like that happened. Just drive, Duff."

"Awwwhhhh," Duff drawls. "What happened, Michelle? I already heard Chasity's crazy first day on the job. How was yours?"

"Be honest," I add. "I wanna know!"

Michelle doesn't budge. "Nothing. I was just. . . Scared."

"AWH!" Duff makes a pouty face. "God, I never thought I'd hear you say that. From Chas, of course, but not you, Michelle-"

"Hey!"

"Oh, shut up! I've never worked before, let alone up on the sixteenth floor of the fucking _Rolling Stone_ office, surrounded by men who are older than you, Duff. Ones who don't give a shit about me. All I did today was get them _coffee._ Kevin promised me I'd be able to get in on a story or something. _Anything_ but fetching _coffee_ like some stupid errand girl!"

_Kevin. . . Kevin. . . Kevin. . ._

That must be the _Rolling Stone_ Kid's name. Huh.

"You're not stupid, Michelle," Duff counters. "You're smarter than I am. Way smarter."

"They're just men, Michelle." I say simply, looking back at her. "Prove them wrong. You should go out there and find a story. Interview whoever, take pictures, write it, do whatever you need to do. Then they'll see. Don't give up! I'm so proud of you, even if all you did was get coffee today."

Michelle frowns, her eyes glassy. Her hair is messy, and I can tell she's been running her hands through it, a habit her and Duff both have when they're stressed. "Thanks, Chassy."

"She's right," Duff nods. "I'm proud of you, Michelle. You too, Chas."

I smile at Michelle, wondering how we made it to this point in our lives. We both have _jobs._

Now, I just hope I can actually keep mine. 


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another one of my personal favorites. The band throws a party! Very intimate and sweet/hot, typical Viperous style. Happy reading! ❤

"We're with the band."

"Sure you are."

The bouncer at the door must be at least six and a half feet tall. Maybe even taller.

It's hard to say. I'm too frazzled to really care.

He laughs, not budging one bit.

"We are!" Michelle insists. "And it's not like we need tickets, or an invitation to get in. Do you really think Guns N' Roses are that coordinated? They're a _mess_ ," Michelle says. "I would know! Let. Us. _In_."

"I'm not letting two little teenagers in to a rock n' roll party. Now get lost!" The bouncer barks at us, waving at us with his hand before crossing his arms again, unfazed.

The worst part of this situation is that we're the only people out here. Everybody's already inside the warehouse Guns N' Roses have turned into a full on party. Everybody except us, thanks to Michelle and I's inability to know where we're going. We drove in circles for what felt like ages. Frances was supposed to come too, but she had to catch a last minute flight to New York.

"C'mon," I whine, starting to panic. "We're an hour and a half late! We're supposed to be here. You can get anyone inside to confirm that we are who we say we are, I promise!"

"Yeah!" Michelle nods vigorously. "Get the band! Get their manager, Alan! Get Mandy Brixx, or Adriana Smith, or, or-"

While trying to see over the bouncer, I nearly scream at who I catch a glimpse at.

_I'd recognize that top hat anywhere._

"Slash!"

Michelle gasps, immediately calling for him too. "Slash!"

"Hey! I'm gonna call the damn cops if you two don't beat it-"

"Slash, help us!" All the flashing lights and commotion inside make it difficult to make him out, but I swear I can see him. A confused Slash, standing just a few feet away.

"Slash! It's Chas and Michelle! Help!"

I watch Michelle drop to her knees, and scramble in between the bouncer's legs. He goes to grab her, yelling, but she's too quick. Michelle shoots up to her feet the second she's inside, booking it.

As the bouncer chases behind her, the two of them heading right for Slash, it leaves the way inside completely open. I simply walk right in, my shoulders shaking with laughter as I walk over to where Slash is arguging with the bouncer.

"What are we even payin' you for, man?! These girls are some of my best pals!" Slash slurs slightly as he drapes his arms over Michelle and I's shoulders, pulling us close.

"Told you so!" Michelle and I both scowl.

"Now c'mon, girls! Let's go find everybody!"

Slash pulls us away with him, weaving us in and out of people. The place is packed, full of fans and friends and the odd assortment of business people, probably from the record company. They stick to the outskirts, talking amongst the other important men in suits. Nearly everyone else has a drink in their hand, and I spot what must be the open bar across the way. A sound system is set up, and an INXS song plays loud throughout the whole space. The air is thick with cigarette smoke. It reminds me of Axl, and when I remember that he's here somewhere, it gives me butterflies.

I start to get really nervous, actually. Slash and Michelle laugh and talk loud next to me as I look all around, my mind racing. It's been days since I've seen him.

_He doesn't even know the news yet. . ._

"Chas! You look sick, doll!" Slash laughs over the lyrics of "Need You Tonight", his hand squeezing my shoulder.

"Is there a bathroom?!"

"Yeah! It's down there!" Slash points ahead, towards a narrow hall in one corner.

"I'll catch up with you guys later!"

My memory goes in and out as my heart pounds. One second I'm returning Slash's arm back to him, the next I'm caught between two strangers, trying to push my way through the crowd. Then I'm alone, the only girl in the bathroom. I know for sure, because I check that all the stalls are empty before talking out loud to myself.

"I can do this. It's just Axl."

 _Just Axl! Ha_. _That's exactly why I'm like this. He makes me like this. Absolutely crazy. Blood racing, shaky, jittery. Like a fiend for him. Craving the high that comes from being in his presence. Especially if it's been a while. Even if "a while" is just a few days. Five, actually. Five days. Each of them spent wondering about him, yearning for him. Maybe even dreaming of him. Thinking about him late at night. . ._

_Axl. Axl. Axl._

"I love him," I say, looking at myself in the mirror. My eyes stare back at me, going wide as I realize that that's the first time I've said that out loud. "I love Axl. That's why I feel this way," I nod. My reflection agrees, doing the same.

_I love Axl._

I better go to him.

The bathroom door swings shut after I walk out of the room, back out in the dark, deserted hall. I take a deep breath, and make it maybe two steps until I hear him.

"There you are."

When I turn around, I can just barely make out his figure. He leans against the wall, a small smile on his lips.

"They told me you were in there," Axl nods to the bathroom. "I figured I'd give you a few minutes before I went in."

"You were going to follow me into the ladies room? How inappropriate." My voice comes out teasing, a joke, but. . . Not quite. It's heavy, too. My breath has already been stolen from me by him.

Axl stands up tall, crossing the space between us. His boots are heavy, echoing off the walls on either side of us, the very, very dim lights overhead catching on his face. His cheekbones. The slope of his nose. On the shadow of his lower lip as it curves from his smile, a silent laugh. On the veins of his big hands, grabbing at my waist. The feel of them is like an electric shock, making me jump. My hands fly up on instinct, coming to rest on his tattooed biceps. The black t-shirt covering all the bright colors is tight, cotton soft under my fingertips.

Axl's voice fans over my cheeks. He talks low, capturing my attention. I look up at him, but he doesn't do the same. He's too busy looking straight down at his fingers. They pull at my skirt and pinch at my waist. It tickles, and I squirm. He chuckles.

"I like _this_ , this cute, _little_ outfit you've got on. Our t-shirts always look so good on you, honey. But I don't think I've ever seen you wear one so. . . _Tiny._ " Axl grins, running his hands over the dark denim skirt covering my hips, up my bare arms, to where the sleeves of my Guns N' Roses t-shirt rest on my shoulders.

The whole way, my skin burns, leaving goosebumps behind.

"Axl-"

He moves us swiftly, gently. Just like that, he has me pressed up against the wall, in the darkest corner. Completely out of sight, completely alone. Just us.

The way he kisses me makes me shiver. His tongue is skilled, velvet on mine. I moan loudly, the uncontrollable sounds so obnoxious that I feel them vibrate low in my throat.

When Axl pulls away, he looks down at me through heavy lids, his breath coming out in pants. "How badly did you miss me?"

"Really bad," I groan.

When I reach up to kiss him again, he pulls back even further. "Oh yeah?"

My only response is one of impluse, pure feeling. I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my body against his, our chests and hips flush. That action alone makes my t-shirt ride up, the thing practically a bikini top now. I can feel air hit the bottom of my bra, the underwire.

"What's gotten into you, Chasity Grace?" Axl taunts me, his hands rubbing my back as he keeps me against him.

"What is it that you want, huh?"

All I can do is look at him, honestly not quite sure.

_What do I want? A kiss? To finally spit it out, tell him I love him? What do I want? What. Do. I. Want._

"I missed you," I say earnestly. It doesn't even answer his question, but I say it anyways. "I miss you all the time, _Axl_."

I don't think we've ever been this close, not even all those times in the car. I had a real shirt on then.

"Tell me what you want, Chas."

Axl's laugh is menacing as he waits. The music from outside thumps in the walls, a reminder that we're not supposed to be in here.

My only response is a whine. I groan in my throat as I grab at his shirt, fidgeting. I manage to get one leg in between both of Axl's, proving that there was still a few millimeters of empty space. It makes my skirt ride up. I think what I feel against my bare inner thigh is his bulge.

I hardly manage to move my hips once before Axl speaks.

"We've been gone for too long."

"I don't _care_ ," I breathe, burying my head in his neck. "Take me somewhere. Please, Axl. Let's go." I cling to him, my hands tugging at his shirt.

"I can't. I have to be here. _We_ have to be out there."

To that, I say nothing. A lump in my throat blocks any other protests I could make.

I feel ridiculous as my eyes water, annoyed with myself for feeling like I could cry because Axl won't let me grind myself against him here in the hallway. Because I can't muster up the guts to pour my thoughts out to him.

_Get a grip, Chasity._

When Axl catches sight of my watery eyes as he peels himself out of my iron grip, I see his face contort with quiet laughter.

"Oh, Chas. Don't cry."

"I'm not gonna cry, Axl."

"Yes, you are. You're so horny you're gonna cry. Poor baby."

 _I am. But it goes deeper than that, Axl. I feel it in my core_ and _in my heart. I love you, Axl. I love you, I love you, I love you. And you don't know._

"I-I am _not-_ "

"Yes, you are. And it's adorable."

The noises that leave my throat sound like they belong to a small child having a tantrum.

"Don't say that. Don't do that."

"Do what? Call you adorable?" Axl questions, reaching out for me. He pulls down my skirt, making it actually cover my upper thighs. Then he fixes my top, hiding my pale pink bra. "Let's go."

Without another word, I let him lead me out of the hall, our little bubble. The party engulfs us, and people treat Axl like he's a god. Calling out praises, smiling, shaking his hand. It reminds me that his brilliance is not only a gift for me to enjoy, but everyone's. That I have to share him, and as time goes on, even more so.

I don't realize that Axl's led us right to the band's main hangout spot until Izzy and Michelle are in front of me, giggling. They've both got beers in their hands as they sit on a vintage looking sofa. I see Duff and Slash a little ways away, at the bar, with Mandy and Sally. Steven is at Adriana's side, too busy to notice me looking at them, because they're making out.

_So not fair. . ._

Axl's voice catches my attention then, just as the music stops.

"Hey! We're gonna actually do something we came here to do now, other than get drunk. You're the first people to hear Appetite, and I think that's pretty cool. We hope you like the record. Later on, we're gonna be handin' them out, plus some new merch we made, so stick around. Thanks for comin'!"

With that, It's So Easy plays over the speakers. For a split second, I manage to laugh at Axl's words, forgetting how he's currently making me feel.

But then it all just comes rushing right back.

"You look upset, honey."

Duff stands close so I'll hear him over the music. He smells like vodka and cigarettes. The whole party does, though.

"I'm not."

When I look up at Duff, I can see that he's made more of an effort today. I bet it was Mandy's doing. His crisp black button up is rolled up below his elbows, and his hair looks shiny and brushed. It's all a major contrast to his normal frazzled state. He was in it when I saw him last, outside the casting.

"Where have you been?"

_Trying to get Axl to touch me._

"In the bathroom," I say quickly. "But I see where Michelle has been."

I look to her again, where she sits, head tipped back. She finishes off her beer, which makes Izzy applaud.

"It was already too late once I realized you two showed up. She already had it in her hand, and I can't make a scene here."

Upon noticing my gaze, Michelle frowns at me. "It's a party, Chas! Lighten up!"

_I can't lighten up, Michelle._

"Can I get you somethin'?" Duff asks softly. "Preferably not alcohol. I don't want both of you drinking tonight."

"A shirley temple, please."

I sit down on the sofa across from Izzy and Michelle. My fingers trace the golden, metallic lace design om the cushions as I wait for Duff to come back. Once he does, I take my drink from him with a thank you.

The cherry syrup reminds me of The Whisky, and Axl's lap. Motley Crue. The sparkly red tabletop of the booth. His Jack and Coke. The car, after. What it felt like to orgasm for the first time in the front seat. His hand. It makes me somber, here in this party, as I listen his voice and his lyrics loud in my ears. A party that's supposed to be a celebration.

But each song just makes it worse. Michelle becomes more drunk, and eventually gets up to dance, taking Izzy with her. Mandy and Adriana go to join them. Slash, too. They party like the band has solved world peace. I sit here, sober.

My heart practically splits open and pours out onto the floor as I hear _that_ goddamn song play next. _That riff._

The final recording of the song Axl wrote about me.

_"She's got a smile that seems to me. . ."_

Everything sounds so different hearing it like this. The demo that made me cry was scratchy and raw. This version has new parts, and Axl's voice is smooth and louder than the rest of the band.

People around me whisper. Things about how it's going to be a hit, wonders about who the Sweet Child is. I wish I could tell them to stop, so I could listen better.

_"Sweet Child of mine. Woah, oh, oh, oh, Sweet Love of mine. . ."_

Axl, the _real_ Axl, sings along with himself in my ear. It startles me, makes me shudder.. His version is a little off beat and maybe even a bit out of tune, but I feel like I have to cut him some slack.

_"She's got eyes of the bluest skies. . . I'd hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain, Chasity Grace."_

"Serenading me won't work." I turn around to look at Axl from where he stands behind the sofa.

"It's worth a try," Axl laughs. "Don't be mad at me because I won't make you cum-"

"Shut up, Axl! That's not why I'm upset. I got over that."

"Then what's the matter? Get up and dance with me-"

"No. I can't tell you-"

"Then just dance with me, Chasity!" Axl takes my hand, pulling me up. He spins me around to face him, and just like that, he gets what he wanted.

We sway lightly just as the guitar solo starts, and Axl hums along. At one point, he messes up, and it makes me laugh into his shoulder.

"You can't even remember your own song!"

"No, I can't," Axl agrees. "You've got me distracted. See, you're just so beautiful, Chasity Grace."

_I love him. I love him. I love him._

"Stop it." I glance up at him, to where his eyes are looking at me.

"It's true. You are," Axl grins. "And I couldn't have made any of this happen without you. Not just your song, but all of it."

_"Where do we go? Where do we go now? Where do we go now. . ."_

"Where do we go now, Chasity Grace?" Axl whispers softly.

"I wish I could kiss you," I whisper back.

"Do it," Axl dares, as "You're Crazy" starts to play.

"Maybe I will-"

"But you won't," Axl says simply, teasing. "You're too scared."

"I'm too scared? _Me?_ You'd be the one getting beat up."

"Fine. You're right-"

Slash's deep laughter pulls us both out of our bickering. He eases up to us, totally drunk. Axl quickly moves three steps away from me, as if he's trying to keep God between us for his sake, and mine.

"Did 'ya tell Chassy about the tour yet, Ax?"

"Tour?"

"We leave in three weeks! Bon voyage! We're gonna travel the world!" Slash whoops, raising his arms in the air like he's on a rollercoaster. It makes him nearly fall over, but he manages to catch himself in time, laughing.

"Damn it, Slash!" Axl snaps at him, quickly getting red.

"When were you going to tell me you're leaving in three weeks?!"

I can feel my stomach tighten, knots forming. My voice doesn't even sound like mine.

"Oops," Slash murmurs, laughing as he backs away like a little kid who just got in trouble. He stares at Axl, giggling.

I look to him, too. "How long are you gonna be gone?!"

I can tell that the answer isn't going to be good when Axl sighs, going from angry to serious.

"Over a year."

"A _**YEAR**_ _?!?"_

It feels like I can't catch my breath. In and out air goes, but my lungs still burn.

"Yeah, but not like, consecutively, we're gonna have a week off every now and then-"

" _Every now and then?!_ " I repeat, frantic. "Axl, why didn't you tell me?!"

_Why didn't Duff tell me? Why didn't anyone tell me?!_

I look around quickly, my eyes searching for anyone else's that might be witness to my breakdown, but there are none. Slash is already downing his next drink. No one cares that the world is suddenly caving in on itself.

The words _"over a year"_ echo through my head as I walk out the same door I came in through without looking back. The same bouncer that Michelle tricked earlier says nothing as I pass him, hurrying.

I can't care that Axl's followed me out here, to where I practically dry heave on the sidewalk. Sunset is busy, the night is still so young. Cars zoom by, people walk past us, completely unaware of what's happening. Axl is leaving.

_Over a year. I won't see him for over a year. I won't see Axl for over a year. He won't get to see me become a real model, or get a little older. He won't get to see Michelle and I's first apartment before we put all our stuff in it. I won't get to kiss him. I won't get to tell him._

I wrap my arms around my sides, trying to hold myself together. I crouch down facing the street, trying to stabilize myself, like being closer to the Earth could help or something. It doesn't.

"Baby, it's gonna be okay. I'm still gonna see you. I can write to you-"

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask again, closing my eyes as I pant. "Tours-tours don't just happen suddenly. You've been planning this. And-and you didn't tell me. A year long tour, and you didn't tell me, Axl."

"Because," Axl says from where he stands behind me. I can feel his emerald stare burning holes into my back. "Because I knew you'd be like this, Chas. And I can hardly handle it. . ."

All I do is cry. Even as Axl drops to his knees, his arms wrapping around my shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, honey. I have to go. I have no choice."

"I know you have to go," I nod. I do know. It's all so much bigger than him, even though it doesn't seem like it. "But I'm still so upset."

Axl squeezes my shoulders as I start all over again, tears staining his shirt.

"I hope you realize that you're absolutely stuck with me until you leave," I warn. "I have to see you every single day, Axl." I look at him through blurry eyes, waiting for his response.

"You're gonna regret that," Axl grins. "You're gonna be so sick of me that you'll be glad I'm gone, honey."

"No I won't," I counter. "I'm going to miss you so much." _Every single second._

Eventually, I stop crying. Axl lets me wipe my mascara stains off my face with his sleeve before helping me up, making sure I don't fall over in my platforms. I consider telling him now, but hold my tongue because the thought makes me want to hyperventilate again.

When we walk back into the party, we find the entire band completely drunk. Michelle wears a freshly printed Guns N' Roses t-shirt over the top she already has on, and Steven is laying on the concrete floor. All the record executives have left, and Axl leaves me to go argue with Alan about whether or not we can go, too. My eyes burn and my feet hurt from the leather straps of my shoes. _Appetite For Destruction_ no longer plays, but instead, some Winger song.

_Definitely time to go._

"Hi, Chasity!"

Mandy Brixx saddles up to me for the first time all night. She does it in heels that make mine look like child's play. And she's drunk, too. She smells like all the vodka she's been drinking with Duff.

"Hi, Mandy." I can't help it as my attention goes right back to where Axl stands, taller than Alan.

Axl points in my general direction, his eyebrows knit together. I watch Alan put his hands out in front of himself, protesting at whatever Axl just said.

Clearly, whatever's happening is not going well.

"Here," Mandy thrusts her hand out towards me. The liquid in her glass sloshes, dribbling onto my skirt. "Oh shit! Sorry, hon! Have a drink!"

"I'm okay. . ." I put out my own hand now, saying no.

Across the dancefloor, Axl shakes his head, his lips forming the syllables of my name. _"Chasity. . ."_

Mandy says something else, but I'm too preoccupied with watching Axl make his way back to me.

"What was that about?"

Axl clenches his jaw, upset.

It makes Mandy frown like a cartoon character, her drunkness exaggerating all her facial expressions.

"I asked him if you could come with. On tour. And of course, he had all these bullshit excuses-"

"I can't go," I interject. "I got the job. I'm going to Fashion Week."

Axl's jaw drops. "You did?" His eyes go wide as he grabs my waist, shaking me. "Oh honey, that's great! See, I knew it!" Axl looks at me proud, smiling so much it makes him squint. "I knew you'd get it. You're not even gonna have any time to miss me. You're gonna be so busy on all those runways!"

"Yay!" Mandy jumps up and down, despite me not even telling her anything about my modeling, ever. _She really is drunk._

"We have to celebrate," Axl decides. "C'mon. I'm gonna go buy you an ice cream."

Mandy happily skips off after we tell her bye. I don't bother saying goodnight to anyone else. They wouldn't even remember. Alan assures me that he'll make sure all of them, including Michelle, get back to the apartment okay. As we walk out, Axl insists on carrying my stack of new merch, and copy of _Appetite._

I try not to think that I'll only get to do this for another three weeks as Axl holds my hand while he drives. The dash reads eleven, and even though I tell him that every ice cream shop is closed, Axl still drives to two different ones to check. Although he's disappointed that we end up at the McDonald's drive-thru, I don't care.

_I could go anywhere with him and be happy. . ._

Our spoons make a soft plastic " _click!"_ just before my laughter fills the car, along with Axl's words.

"To your first job! I'm already so proud of you, baby."

"And to your first tour," I add.

Even though it's bittersweet, this is all Axl has ever wanted. To make music, and make it well. To tell the world about everything he's seen and done, and to play rock n' roll. He's fought for this, his entire life. When his parents got so, so mad over the Queen record he bought. All the arrests, the hitchhiking to L.A., the failed bands, singing at church, being broke.

And he's about to do it all. I can feel it in my bones, in my soul that Axl's dreams are coming true.

I set my ice cream down in a cup holder before turning to face Axl better.

"Can I tell you something?"

He swallows a big spoonful of hot fudge, nodding. "You can tell me anything, honey."

"I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can't see, but I'm crying. Visual is up on Tumblr @axlnchas! Leave a comment! 💕💕


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Axl schemes, Michelle is in on it, and Chas is clueless. Semi hot!

_"Expecting somebody else?"_

_Axl's first spoken words all night make me break out into goosebumps._

_"No," I rush to speak, even though it's not easy. He towers over me, body against mine. The shadow engulfing the two of us on the wall I stare at directly ahead is his size. I get lost in it. "You're just-You. . ."_

_"Did I scare you?" His voice is innocent, genuinely curious._

_"Well, yes. And everybody's in here-"_

_"Nobody's watching. They're all drunk," Axl insists quietly. His words make me turn around slightly, looking over my shoulder, and his._

_Sure enough, nobody in the rest of the green room pays any attention._

_"Did you have fun? Was it a good farewell show?"_

_"Yeah." I watch the silhouette of Axl's head as it comes to rest on my shoulder. "You did so good. You always do."_

_I feel his voice. It goes right to my heart. "Awh, I love you, Chasity Grace."_

_I beam, even though I know he can't see my huge smile very well. "I love you too, Ax."_

_His roaming hands begin to stray really, really far. I feel his fingertips climbing their way under my Guns N' Roses t-shirt, one of their newest designs._

_"Spend the night with me."_

_I hardly process what he says. "Huh?" His hands. . . They're on my bare waist now._

_"Spend the night with me," He repeats._

_This time, I actually listen. And all over again, I feel that shock run through me, just the way it did when he saddled up behind me._

_"What?"_

_"You heard me," Axl asserts, chuckling._

_"I did, but I'm confused," I murmur. My hands now slide up alongside Axl's on my body, an attempt to stop him so I can concentrate on what he's even saying to me. "I am spending the night with you. I'm here, aren't I?"_

_"Bless your heart, baby." Axl really laughs now. He's grinning, I already know it just from hearing him. "I_ mean _," He emphasizes his words, trying to be clear. "Spend the night, sleep over. At the apartment. With me."_

_I whip around suddenly, my face surely getting as red as the bandana wrapped around his head. "What?" The tips of my ears feel like a hot poker._

_"Like, alone?" I whisper, also trying to be clear._

_Axl nods, looking down at me. He's trying not to laugh._

_I feel more and more embarrassed the longer I stand here, staring up at his face._

_"You're so cute," Axl whispers through the laughter he can't keep in anymore. His hands reach out for me again, and I swat them away. "God, you're adorable."_

_I cross my arms over my chest, refusing to look at him. I focus on Izzy, who's got a line of shots in front of him._

_"Is that a no?" Axl pouts, coming to stand closer to me. He blocks my view of Steve cheering Izzy on._

_"I don't know," I say sheepishly. I do know. Of course I want to._ Yes!

_"You don't know? You'd pass up being stuck with me for an entire night?"_

_I meet Axl's eyes then. "I wish I could be stuck with you every single night. That's all I ever want."_

_Axl's only response is the look he gives me. His sly smile, pink lips pouty. It makes my heart race._

_"I'll meet you at the apartment, then."_

_And with that, Axl walks away._

_●●●_

"The key is under the mat." 

"When did he tell you about this little plan of his?"

Michelle cracks an even wider smile as she pats the steering wheel. "I can't tell you that!" Her voice is sing-song. 

"Why not-"

"Just spend time with him, okay Chassy? It's the last night," She reminds me. "The very last one. I'll be back to get you before the boys show up for the bus, bright and early. Be ready." 

I can't hide how flabbergasted this entire situation has me. "What are you gonna do, keep them out all night?" 

"That's for me to worry about, not you," Michelle points a finger at me, before directing it to the side window, at the apartment building. "Now, get up there! There should be snacks in the kitchen for you while you wait." 

When she winks at me, I know that that wasn't a guess. 

"I can't believe you and Axl devised an entire plan to get us alone, and I had no idea-" 

Michelle cuts me off with a hug. "I love you. See you tomorrow."

"I love you too," I mumble, mind racing. _What is going on?_

"Remember, the key under the mat." 

"Okay." 

I feel like I'm in a haze as I slide out of her station wagon, and walk up to the sidewalk. The sound of Michelle's window rolling down makes me stop. 

"Be safe!" She leans out the car, grin devilish. 

That makes me go rigid. "Oh my god!" It also makes me feel thankful that the street is empty except for us. 

Something about the apartment isn't right when I walk in, and lock the door behind me. 

The floors practically sparkle in the light I turn on. The couch is spotless. Nothing seems out of place. It smells like lemon, the same cleaning products my mother has at home. 

When I venture into the kitchen, it's equally as immaculate. The only off part about it, is that it seems like I did the grocery shopping. 

There's strawberry ice cream in the freezer, safety seal still on the lid. In the fridge, the only other thing to drink besides beer is cherry flavored Coke. What really floors me, though? The bright Cheez-It box in the pantry, right next to a couple bars of dark chocolate. 

Cheez-Its in hand, I float on a cloud through the rest of the empty apartment. The doors to the boy's rooms are all shut, except for the one I'm looking for. 

Stepping into Axl's room is just like being with him. That lemon cleaner is in here too, but he overpowers it. The cigarette he smoked earlier, the cologne he sprayed before he left for the concert. His handwriting on the piece of paper that rests on his perfectly made, probably just washed sheets. 

_"Chas,_

_All your favorites are in the kitchen, have something while you wait for me. (Just not the ice cream, I want to be there to eat it with you.) I hope I did an ok job cleaning up. I haven't seen you yet today as I write this, but I bet you're in a tiny little outfit. If you get cold, or uncomfortable, you can put on whatever you want. T-shirts are in the dresser at the top, sweats to the bottom._

_I'll see you once I get home, hon._

_-Axl- "_

My breathing doesn't return to normal for a few minutes. I spend them laying across Axl's bed, his note pressed to my chest as I try to grapple the waves of emotions rolling over me. 

Nobody's ever cared this much about me before. It's riveting, honestly. I struggle to really process it, just how much thought Axl put into this, without me even knowing. And right before one of the biggest days he's had yet, the night before he leaves for a sixteen month tour. 

It makes me wonder how I'm going to get by without him. What am I going to do? Nobody's ever going to love me this much. 

_I love him. I love him. I love him. I love him-_

The front door opening makes me jump up, butterflies soaring through my chest. 

"Axl!" I call out to him, grinning. 

"My sweet, sweet Chasity Grace! Hi-"

As much as I love hearing his voice, the second he's within my reach, I press a kiss to his lips, silencing him. 

Axl laughs against my lips, his forming a smile. "Hi, honey." 

"Hi," I breathe. I don't say anything else as I go right back to it, leaving my kiss on his lips. 

Something feels different when Axl gets himself out of my grip to get his boots off, though. He appears to be just as dizzy as me when he stumbles a bit, trying to get the laces undone. It makes both of us laugh, spinning until I fall back onto the bed, him on top of me. 

Eventually, I can't keep it in anymore. 

"I love you," I say. I look up at Axl, my fingers toying with the necklaces that hang from his neck, dangling in my face. "I love you so much." 

"I love you too," Axl kisses my jaw tenderly. 

I don't know how much time passes by. Eventually, Axl's shirt falls to the floor, entirely by my doing. Then mine goes, too.

I don't know exactly what's gotten into me as I slide down his body. I leave kisses all over Axl. Near his shoulder. His chest. On his stomach. That faint trail of blonde hair that leads down, disappearing into the jeans he still wears.

The skin on his hip feels like velvet beneath my mouth, my kisses feverish. "I love you, Axl."

I think I forget where I am, who I am. Time doesn't exist, just him, our bodies. My declarations of love. The fire in my core could burn down entire cities now.

I reach out for Axl's hand, the one that's closest to my head. I hold it between both my own hands. _So big._

My eyes shut as I leave kisses there, too. His palm, the tip of each finger. I hardly realize what I'm doing until his index finger is already in my mouth, my head moving back and forth.

"Fuck, Chas." 

I pull back, a thin string of spit still tying me to him. "I love you so much, Axl." My head falls into his lap, nuzzling into him for a moment. But then I go back to it, acting on pure instinct. 

Axl guides me back to his lips hastily, his tongue weaving with mine. With no one else to hear, I moan loud into his mouth. I feel his hands trail along my back, up my shoulders until they get back to my face. It makes me whine when he falls back against the headboard, out of breath. 

I don't think as I begin to tug at his belt, the black leather sturdy beneath my jittery fingers. I grow frustrated when I just can't seem to get it off him, it proving difficult. 

Axl doesn't help me. Instead, his hands come to rest on mine. "Not tonight." 

"Why not? _I want to,_ " I hiss. 

"Because," Axl says. 

That makes a pang go through my chest. "You can't just say that and leave it at that." 

Axl's face softens instantly, his eyelids still heavy. "We can't have sex for the first time the night before I. . . Before I leave for a year, Chas. I can't just leave you after that." 

"But I love you." 

The expression he makes tells me that I don't get it. And he's right, I don't. Sadness begins to pool in my stomach. 

"That's why I can't." 

I repeat what he says, confused. "You can't, because you love me?" 

"I refuse to take your virginity and then leave you the next morning without so much as a goodbye, Chas. I want more for you than that. Something more special-" 

"This is special to me right now," I counter, starting to really grow offended. "Everything you've done for me tonight has made me feel so, so special. You always make me feel so special."

"Chas-" 

"No," I insist. Tears threaten to spill over now. "I really hope you get what I'm saying, Will. I love you forever. I want to be with you forever. You have my heart, completely. And now I want to give you this, and you won't have it-" 

I continue to cry as he kisses me. It's not desperate, like before. He's doing it to console me, and I'll admit it, it works. 

"I'm going to miss you so much. I don't know what I'm going to do," I say in between kisses. 

Axl wipes at my cheeks. "I'm always gonna be with you, honey. You're stuck with me forever. You're going to be just fine." 

We say nothing else as Axl runs his fingers through my hair. My tears eventually stop, that bottomless pit in my chest feeling repaired as I hug Axl's middle. I'm nearly asleep when he gets up from the bed, saying something about having a shower. That wakes me up completely. I change while the water runs down the hall, finding the t-shirt Axl mentioned in his letter, but not the sweatpants. It's too hot in here for that. I leave my bra and shorts on the floor, next to where my t-shirt landed earlier. 

The scent of lavender dryer sheets fills the air as I pull back the covers on Axl's bed before laying down. I squeeze a pillow, wishing he'd come back already. 

I've retreated so far into my own head, nearly asleep again, that when Axl comes walking in, I think we're both shocked to see each other.

Me, definitely more so, though.

I can't find words to speak as I stare at Axl's body in nothing but a white towel. He's still wet. Water droplets cling to his abs, the V of his hips. The warm light coming from the nightstand only does good things for him. The entire scene makes that ache from earlier feel worse, the one from before I started crying. The one that yearns for him, that has, for months now.

_He knows I'm looking. I know it._

"I. . . I-I'm sorry." It's the only thing I can think to say, just before I squeeze my eyes shut, and keep them shut.

I hear Axl laugh a little, and then what _must_ be the sound of the towel that was hanging around his hips drop.

"You can look now."

I keep my eyes shut. I don't know if I trust him.

"I said you could look, honey."

Apprehensively, I open my eyes. Axl stands at the foot of the bed, his towel replaced by the green boxers he now wears. Then he looks at me, almost expectantly.

"What?"

"Move over," He says.

So I do. I make room for him, just before he gets in bed beside me.

The last thing I do before giving into sleep is tell Axl one last time for the night, that I love him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so, so hard to write. It's a compliation of four different rough drafts I wrote, each of them very different from the next. I hope you liked it, it came from the heart! ❤❤❤


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go on tour. Hot and sad!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visual is on Tumblr!

What was last night's sanctuary is now this morning's pitfall.

I can hear Duff's loud snores from down the hall. I think it's Duff, at least. It might be Izzy. Or Slash. Or Steve. They all stumbled in maybe an hour ago, so drunk and rowdy it woke Axl and I.

We never fell back asleep after the boys came in. All of last night's tension is still rippling through my body. It clashes with the same tension coursing through Axl. The bed feels like it's on fire underneath my bare legs, Axl just as hot on top of me in his boxers. _So dangerous._

When he feverishly litters my jaw with kisses and I moan, the sound that leaves his lips makes a shudder run up my spine.

"Be quiet," He hisses low, voice still filled with sleep.

"I _can't,"_ I frown up at him. I hope to meet his eyes, but don't because he ducks his head down again. The kisses on my collarbones are feather light, tickling my skin.

When I burst out laughing, Axl slaps his hand down over my lips. He's so quick that I hardly realize what's happened, his hand pressed firmly against half of my face.

"I told you to be quiet," He scolds before pulling back, and coming to kneel up in front of me.

He's beautiful-maybe even more so than any other time of day. It makes me upset that this is the first time I've truly seen him first thing in the morning, and it just so happens to be the last time for a while. The orange light coming in through the blinds makes his wild hair look like fire. Light stubble lines his jaw and his lips are swollen from kissing me. As I lay here, I have no choice but to rake my eyes up his bare chest, from his tight boxers, past the happy trail, to his sleepy, annoyed face.

All I manage to do is stare up at him with heavy eyes, trying hard to not wander. It's so difficult that whimpers of frustration echo against Axl's hand.

A smile slowly forms across his face. "Look at you. . . So pretty."

My 'Stop it, Axl' sounds completely incoherent, but Axl laughs quietly as if he heard me perfectly.

I don't make a sound as both of Axl's hands move to cup my face, his getting closer and closer with each heartbeat.

"I love you." He declares-certain.

I can hardly get my words out, Axl chasing after them quickly. "I love you, Axl."

I sound dream-like, hardly even real. Nothing feels like it is. It's hard to believe that in an hour, he'll be gone. I'll probably be in shambles. The truth makes me cling to him tighter, to this fantasy that he's brought to life. A night that turned into a morning that turned into a glimpse of what waits for us after the tour, after my first gigs, after everyone finds out.

I can tell that Axl is going to make us finally get up soon once he breaks the silence that sat between us as we caught our breath, and our bearings. That tension mellows out, but still strikes a chord in my heart, making me yearn for him. It gets worse when he talks.

"You know," He whispers, looking up to the ceiling with that small smile of his. "Our love is dangerous. _Viperous_.

"I don't know how I'm going to live without you," Axl murmurs. His eyes go wide, empty. Like he's searching for an answer, a way to cope. "I don't think I can. Not anymore."

It makes my whole body feel heavy. I can feel my own eyes soften as I look at him, trying to remember exactly what he looks like right now. I wonder if I'll forget.

"I don't know how _I'm_ going to live without you," I say.

Axl groans, squeezing his eyes shut like he's in pain. "You've got me trapped, Chasity Grace. You lured me in, and I'm going to be enchanted by you for the rest of my life," He says, looking at me. "You _viperous_ , dangerous woman."

I hide my face. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Axl grins as he pulls me back to him. "I've more than accepted my fate. You can have me as long as you want me. I'm at your mercy."

"I want you forever," I quickly promise.

"I'm yours."

" _I'm_ yours."

●●●

Everyone is so drunk that our goodbyes are one-sided. 

The bus's engine runs steadily, loud in my ears as I make my final rounds. Michelle tapped out once her tears started to flow. She's waiting in the car for me. 

"Bye, Chassy! Bon Voyage!" Slash happily embraces me, his clothes the same ones he was wearing last night. He smells like beer as he gets close, and it makes me worry that Axl will rub off of his t-shirt that I wear, and onto Slash. That makes our hug last for mere seconds. 

Duff is next. He wears a drunk grin, and it takes him a second to realize it's me. "Oh, Chassy! Bye!" 

"Bye, Duffy. Take care of yourself, please." I push away my selfish thoughts of wanting to keep Axl's scent fresh, and fully hug Duff like my life depends on it. I hope my desperation is clear in my voice, and gets back to him when he's sober enough to follow my advice. "Please." 

"I love 'ya, babe," Duff mumbles, resting his head on top of mine for a few seconds. "I've gotta go." 

"Bye," I wave. "Call us, please. Or else we'll have to hunt you down and follow your bus till you pull over," I warn him seriously. 

As he walks away, following Slash up the steps to the band's bus, the tears set in a little bit more. Izzy and Steve kickstarted them as the first ones to get on that bus, and now Slash and Michael have really done it. 

All that leaves is him. 

Axl stands across the lot, still near his car. He slams the driver's side door shut, but doesn't lock it as he comes over. Unlike the others, he looks wide-awake and wears the clean clothes I saw him pull out of his closet not even half an hour ago. I know that I won't need to tell him what I told Duff, but I probably will anyway. If I can manage to speak, that is. And right now, I'm not so sure. My eyes threaten to spill over once he gets within touching distance. 

Axl's smile is weak as he stares at me. He appears to be doing what I did earlier, in his room. Taking it in. Trying to remember. Remember me standing here, in his shirt that's two sizes too big, my denim shorts, my converse. My frizzy hair. How it takes everything in me to not cry, to not grab onto his legs like a child and order him to stay here, in Los Angeles, with me. 

My chest hurts as it slams into his, but it just serves as a reminder that this is real. He's leaving, and this is it. 

"I love you," I murmur. "I love you, Axl." 

"I love you too, sweetheart." 

It's silent for a moment, except for the voices of the roadies loading up gear, and the hum of the bus behind us. I remember it. 

"You be good, okay? I love you so much, and I want you to be in one piece when I get back," Axl tells me sternly, pulling back to stroke my hair as he talks. The love that oozes out of his voice makes my lip tremble. "Don't you worry about me, either. I'll be good, too. I know you worry, and I don't want you to, okay? I'm gonna start writing tomorrow, I promise." 

Axl looks at me in the eyes, and all I can do is nod. 

"Don't cry, baby. Don't cry." Axl hugs me tightly, his embrace making my ribs prove their strength, but I don't mind. Another reminder. 

"I love you, sweet girl." 

"I love you too. So much," I whisper. 

Axl's the one who pulls away. He has to take my hands off his body, remove me with force. I wish he wouldn't. _Stay,_ I think. _Please stay. Stay, stay, stay!_

"Bye, Chassy." 

"Bye," I manage, trying to smile. It turns into a grimace when Axl turns to walk away. 

"The keys are in the ignition, honey!" He calls out once he's nearly to the door of the bus. 

"What?" I try to yell back, stifling my sobs. 

"To the Camaro! It's got a full tank, and I just had the oil changed! It's yours till I come back! Take care of her for me!" 

My jaw drops as tears stream down my face.

The last glimpse I get of Axl is his head shaking as he laughs at me, just before he disappears into the bus.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chas's family make a guest appearance!

Axl lied.

He didn't start writing the day after he left.

I find multiple envelopes addressed to me as soon as I get into the Camaro. They're where he knew I would clearly see them, on the driver's side seat.

It makes me feel out of place sitting behind the steering wheel, with Axl and the bus already carrying the guys far away, off towards Canada. Being in his car makes it feel like he's somehow still here though, with me. The leather holds onto his scent, his essence, just as perfectly as my mind does. It makes it easy to focus on the stack of paper in my lap-the car does all the hard work setting the scene for me.

_"Chas,_

_I can't make you wait a week to hear from me, so I've written you a letter for every single day of the week already. Don't skip ahead, 'kay? It starts on the next page."_

I can hardly read his closely knit, permanently-capitalized handwriting because of the tears that come flooding back to my eyes. But nonetheless, I set that piece of paper down, and continue on to the next page.

_"My dearest Chasity Grace,_

_Just imagine me singin' Don't Cry really badly right now._

_Don't you cry, baby._ _You'll feel better tomorrow._

_As I sit here to write this, I can't find my glasses or my contacts. I'm squinting at the paper, and I can tell that my words are slanting and I'm sorry. What can I say. I'm a mess without you. Hopefully I find 'em before the show in a couple hours!!!! Then I get to see_ _you!!!_

_I'll be thinking about you and the car a lot. I'm kidding about the car-but not really!!_

_I didn't tell you that I wanted you to look after her for me, because I knew you'd refuse. Well, now it's too late, you're stuck with her! Ha! I got you._

_Expect a call from me tomorrow or the next day from somewhere in Canada. I have to be careful with writing and calling. We don't want the wrong person to be nearby. Or people...?_

_I'm going to try my best though, honey. Thanks in advance for being patient with me. Hopefully I make it out of this tour alive, and well enough to see you on the flip side._

_P.S. wear those cute little pink panties in memory of me!!!!!!_

_Love,_

- _Axl- "_

I read every word in his voice. My ears catch onto his phantom laughter and the highs and lows to his speech, the rumble of the baritone deep in his throat, every syllable smooth. 

  
I laugh through the tears at the part where he says he got me, and gasp and go red at his P.S. request. _He remembers those?_

Then, I drive home. I don't bother to turn on the radio. I don't want it to stifle Axl. I still hear him in my head. He's nonsensical, muffled, but still there. I cling to him as I drive on autopilot, somehow feeling used to his car, even though this is the second time I've actually driven it. All the red lights and streets are a blur. I have to fight against the pull towards _home_ as I actually head home.

_Wherever Axl is where home is,_ I assert to myself. I even nod once, in full agreement with myself.

I try not to think about how this is reality now. _Sixteen months._ Sure, Duff and Axl both went over the tour itinerary with Michelle and I in-depth. I even have my own copy at home. There's six legs in total, some of them the guys are support, others they're actually headlining. They're going all over the world, with hardly any of the dates anywhere near California. Even less are near L.A. specifically. They'll have times where they get to come home for a few days, or a few weeks, but not anytime soon.

It's another month before my trip to New York to make a fool of self at Fashion Week, and finally see Axl. The tour collides with my week-long gig for fourty-eight hours, two days.

_Don't think about the long term. Just survive a month, Chas. One month. I'm going to be so busy, it'll fly by._

Believe it or not, Michelle's _Rolling Stone_ checks have been coming in steadily, and growing. Her boss isn't fully convinced by her yet, but her photos of the band at the farewell show did make it in on a small feature. Now, she wants to finally spend the money. On an _apartment._

She's already compiled a list of places for _us_ to go look at. I don't even get paid for Fashion Week until afterwards, and that's if I even manage to walk out there. The fear is already paralyzing. Paul says he's working to get me on another job, a photoshoot or something else before New York, but there's no guarantee. Michelle's forcing me to go tour apartments that I can't even pay for. _At least it's a distraction,_ I reason. _An expensive one._

The best part? My parent's don't know about Michelle's plot to get me out of their household, and neither does her own mother. I can't even begin to imagine how that conversation is going to go over if we even find a place we could both afford at some point.

I can't imagine how a lot of conversations with my parents would go now at days.

_"By the way, Axl is my boyfriend. . ."_

_"By the way, Michelle and I are moving into an apartment together, even though we both have not one clue on how to actually be on our own. . ."_

_"By the way, Axl just gave me his expensive, fast car to drive for a whole year and a half until he gets back from his tour with the band. . ."_

I'm already parked in front of my house when I realize that the last one is a conversation I actually will probably need to have right now. _Oh God. . ._

Across the street, Michelle's station wagon is in her driveway. I knew she'd beat me home, especially with me sticking around to read what Axl wrote in the parking lot. In my own driveway, my father's car is here, too. It's still so early in the morning that he hasn't even left for work yet.

_Wonderful._

I decide to keep Axl's letters that I haven't read yet in the car. Better safe than sorry. I can't fathom the thought of one of my siblings finding one of Axl's letters in my room. Layla would be so obnoxious about it, hollering and screaming, and Shawn would bully me in an attempt to get me to tell him what the deal is. In both scenarios, my parents find out too. Of course, there's also the risk of either of them stumbling into my room on their own terms. _Terrifying._

As I walk up to the house, Axl's keys and opened letter in my pocket, I also remember how carefully crafted last night's plot was, right from the beginning. I was already supposed to stay at Michelle's. I completely forgot about her blurting that out to my mother seconds before we left my house last night, with absolutely no input from me. I was so excited to go already and see Axl, that I hardly cared what was happening if it had nothing to do with him.

_I wish I could go back. Relive it, over and over and over again until he comes back._

The house smells like breakfast once I walk inside, and my mother yells my name from the kitchen.

Layla smiles innocently at me from the couch, where she watches cartoons in her pajamas. "Hi, Chas! Have fun?"

"Hi! Loads of fun," I say, putting some pep in my voice. To me, it sounds dull, but to her child ears, she can't tell the difference. She goes back to the television when I walk further into the house.

Shawn is next, and nearly spills his giant bowl of cereal all over Axl's t-shirt. The one I forgot I was wearing. The one I was supposed to quickly take off in the car, and change back into the t-shirt I had on yesterday.

"Gosh, Chas! You just came back and you're already in my way," Shawn remarks bitterly, eyeing me as he continues on towards the dining room table.

My attention to my utter carelessness makes it hard to focus on what he says, and respond back like a normal human being. "I-"

"Be nice to your sister."

Dad's deep voice is accompanied by the sound of him turning today's paper. Both startle me. I already forgot he was here.

"She just got home, and you're acting like this, Shawn?"

"It's her fault," He replies, bold.

"Hey!" Mom yells from the kitchen, overhearing everything that's happening. I roll my eyes.

Dad's aged face is always hard-set, probably from his years of fighting in the courtroom. But right now, it's formed into an intense scowl, directed towards my little brother. Dad's already set the paper down, and his large gold watch glitters in the dining room light from where his hand still clutches the paper against the table.

Everybody's silent for a second, until Dad finally looks at me, and decides to ignore Shawn's attitude. His blue eyes stare into my soul. They're almost grey, just like mine. Underneath them, I try to keep my mind neutral, like I'm trying to prevent him from reading my true thoughts. The panicked ones about him questioning whose shirt I'm wearing, what I did last night, why I probably look like I was crying.

"Hi, sweetheart. How are you? How was the concert?"

Lying to a criminal lawyer who's also my dad is probably the most difficult thing I've ever tried to pull off. Especially when every lie has to exclude all details relating to my twenty-five year old boyfriend.

"It was good. I'm good, Dad."

He continues to stare at me intently, not satisfied with my answer. He completely folds back up the paper, for sure done with it. I realize that there's no escape.

"Just good? Aren't they," He gestures, searching for a word to use. "Leaving? Isn't that what you said? They're going on a tour?"

"Yeah," I nod.

"For a whole year," Mom adds over the noise of her in the kitchen.

"It was the last show. They were great, it was a full house."

Dad just nods. Then, he finally looks appeased.

"Well, I better get going." He stands up from the table, sliding into his suit jacket after pushing in his chair.

"Bye, Dad."

His grip is firm on the back of my head as he kisses my crown. He doesn't even attempt to do the same to Shawn, but Layla does get the same treatment as me, before Dad says goodbye to the whole house.

I'm already in the middle of trying to make my own bowl of cereal when I hear the front door open again.

"Who's car is that outside our house?!"

_God, I'm so forgetful this morning. What's my problem?_

When no one replies, and all that can be heard through the house is Layla's T.V. show, Dad yells again. His accent gets stronger now.

"Chasity Grace, who's car is that?!"

"Uh. . ." I step away from the kitchen counter. On my way out to the living room, Mom's face is confused. She's right behind me, following closely as we both go to face Dad.

He moves out of the doorway, and Mom gasps when she sees Axl's car against the curb, down past the sidewalk.

"Uhm, well you see, Axl didn't want to leave his car sitting in a parking lot for a whole year. It's not good for the engine or something-uh, I don't know. So uh, he's kind of. . . Letting me drive it?" 

Dad looks dumbfounded. Mom stares back and forth from Dad to me, just like Layla. 

"Ha!" Shawn snorts from the dining room. "He gave _you_ his car to _drive_? You'll crash it!" 

"A car? Axl gave you his car?" Mom asks. I'm surprised as he face goes warm. "What a sweetie!" 

"Axl gave you his car?" Dad repeats himself. Unlike Mom, he doesn't look too happy. 

All of the sudden, the weight of Axl's letter feels so heavy in my pocket, like a boulder. 

"Who just gives a child a car?! It looks expensive. You have to give it back. You can hardly even drive, Chasity! That's why we didn't get you one. You don't need it-"

"I'm eighteen," I correct. "I can't give it back. He's already gone, they all are. And I do need it, I actually might be working with Paul soon, my modeling agent, remember? I told you about that-"

"You've been eighteen for a month!" Dad says, still not having it. "You can't just take somebody's car, Chasity-"

"It's _Axl's_ car." That statement has _a lot_ more meaning to me than it does to anyone else in this room, but it doesn't matter. He's not a stranger to any of them. They've met him more than a handful of times. "He wants me to look after it, so I am. It's the least I can do-"

My father sighs loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose for a second. "I have to go to work, I don't have time for this. A car. . ." He shakes his head. "I have to go." 

"Bye," Layla offers sweetly before turning to me. "I think the car's pretty cool. Do you think we can go driving in it, Chasity?" 

Before I can speak, our parents beat me to it. 

"No, she can hardly drive!" 

I feel offended by both of them saying that. _What do they know?_

"Michael and Axl have taught me a lot! You just don't know because you're both so busy you've never taken me yourselves!" 

Actually, Dad and I got as far as the curb once, and then he got mad because I didn't back out "the right way" and shut the whole situation down right there. 

"The answer is still no," Dad says firmly, speaking for himself and Mom. "You do not take anybody anywhere with you in that car, Chasity." He points a finger at me, stern. 

Mom starts to move towards the door. "Okay, bye, honey! Have a good day!" 

I let out a sigh of relief once Dad is outside, and the front door shuts behind him. 

_It's going to be a long sixteen months, Axl._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're going to do anything after reading this, please go look at the visual for this chapter on my tumblr, @axlnchas, it's tagged under "chapter 35" I spent TWO HOURS making the picture for this one!! Did I write those letters?? Or did Axl. . . I don't know. Go on tumblr and try to find out!


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We catch up on Chas's life with the boys away, and her and Michelle as they try to be adults haha

The apartment feels like a museum each time I visit it.

Nothing's changed, except for every barren closet. All the hairspray is gone. They were smart enough to completely empty the fridge before locking up for the last time. But besides that, nothing is out of place. It makes me anxious, actually.

Like any second, I'll hear them out in the hallway. Heavy boots and metal jewelry chiming. Loud laughter, expletives, the smell of cigarettes. They'll come barreling though the door, and catch me here, grieving. Make fun of me for it.

_"Whatcha doin' in here, Chas?!"_

My eyes burn as they shift back into focus. Pure white consumes my vision. The softness is the same color as the clouds out in the sky today. Somehow, Los Angeles is still sunny and bright, even when the entire world leaves the city limits.

I haven't gotten desperate enough to climb into the object of my desire. Not yet, at least. Although, I'm very close today. I stand where Axl did that last night-the _best_ night. At the foot of his bed. Only I'm fully dressed, and not in his clothes today.

If I stand completely still like I do now, not even breathing, and stare, I can see two imprints still in the pillows. Axl and I. It's comforting that that moment still lives on, and I can see it now. Even if it is gone. . .

I rock back and forth, from the tips of my converse, to the heels. I can hear the hard slaps on the wooden floor boards. They creak under my weight, groaning. It finally registers in my brain that the sensation coming from the middle of my body is the pain from hugging myself too tightly. Trying to keep myself in one piece. My hands ache as I unclench them, the burn in the tips of my fingers all the way up to my shoulders.

It's been two weeks. Fourteen days and nights. Axl's called once. _One time,_ and it lasted five minutes before he ran out of quarters. Mail is so slow that once his first week of pre-written letters ran out, I haven't had any more to occupy me.

Without thinking, my eyes flicker to the nightstand, going straight to the clock there. I have twenty minutes until I'm supposed to meet Michelle. It's time to go.

She hasn't even been able to fill my time, distract me from everything that's missing. _Rolling Stone_ has quickly come to demand her entire schedule, and although I love how much she loves it, I miss her. It's the weekend, and she's finally got a spare four hours, so it's lunch and apartment hunting for us. She's bringing the ad-circled newspapers, and I'm supplying the transportation.

The Camaro is a gas guzzler. I had no idea Axl spent so much every week just to keep it up and running. Paul called the Tuesday after they left, and has two jobs lined up for me once I get back from New York. They're photoshoots, unlike the runway work he thinks I'm destined for. Both seem completely unattainable, but I promised not to back out. Especially when he said that the people with the power wanted to give me an advance. Which I need- _for gas_.

My mom had to come with me to the bank to open up a checking account so I had a place to keep all the money. Two hundred dollars between both jobs isn't hardly anything, but for me, it was more money than I'd ever been handed at once, practically for nothing. It was overwhelming. It made me wonder how Guns N' Roses felt when Geffen Records handed them a check for _seventy-five thousand dollars._

It actually made me laugh out loud in that bank, remembering how Axl used to carry around his cut of the money and a knife in the same pocket, because they wouldn't let him open an account under 'Axl', and he refused to legally go by 'Will.' As I laughed to myself, my mother asked me if I was okay. I told her yes.

But I'm not, really. I'm trying to be. When the people you've spent nearly your entire life with just up and go, it's hard to find something else to do. Something else to focus on, besides the band.

They've always liked to call me an honorary member, but now, it doesn't feel like it as much. They've taken it all with them, everything I've helped shape. The songs I could probably figure out how to play in my sleep, the same ones I mulled over, changed lyrics for. All the studio visits. The rehearsals. The shows. Their actual presence in my life, both collectively and as individuals.

Duff's always been there, minus his escape to Seattle as a teenager, and now this. I literally can't remember a consciousness where he wasn't a part of it-he is my brother in every sense of the word.

Although Axl and I haven't been together for what people would consider long, that first kiss in March feels like eons ago. Even my birthday does, too. When I truly think back, years ago to when I met him for the first time, it's jarring. I was barely fifteen. The band had just gotten together. Duff's hair was red and blue, and Axl's Indiana twang was still in every deep word he spoke. He had been to L.A. before on small trips, but had just moved here for good a few weeks before.

If I remember right, Duff had just introduced me to Tracii Guns not even a couple months before Slash, then Izzy and Steven, and then Axl. L.A. Guns-the band with Tracii-fell apart once Axl stepped onto the scene. His voice was no match for anybody else's, not to mention, all his charisma. The record labels were already starting to take notice, and it was history. And to think, I didn't really like Axl back then. . . How stupid of me.

If I told fifteen year old me that now I'm here, in his bedroom in pure agony over him, she wouldn't believe me. Or maybe, she would. I've always been a bit gullible, and even if it's not a _lie_ , it _is_ what no one ever saw coming. So maybe I'd believe myself, but I wouldn't be happy. I'd be furious, actually. The teenage hormones would be _too_ real. They were much worse back then, even though I know all those same chemicals still course through my body in excess. My eyes burn right now from sadness. It feels so heavy, and not even the reassurance that my brain just _thinks_ it's that colossal is comforting. I feel terrible, just as younger me would, but in a different way. It would probably make Axl laugh, past and present. _All of this would._

That's been my favorite ongoing daydream lately. Wondering what Axl would do or say at any given moment in time. It's like a little game with myself. I haven't done anything lately but play it, with all this unlimited time on my hands for the next few weeks. . .

That is, until my gaze snaps back to the present, and I notice that I now have _ten minutes_ to get across town, and pick up Michelle from work.

For some reason, it doesn't hurt as I hurry out of Axl's room, and through the rest of the silent apartment. I know nothing will change while I'm gone. It'll still be here when I come back, probably in a few days when I need another reminder. A reason to leave my bedroom at home, and attempt to get closer to my _real_ home. To drive his car, and sit in his room, and he doesn't even know it.

Will I tell him that I've already been here three times now without him knowing? That I keep the key that's supposed to be under the mat in my own pocket, on my nightstand? That I miss him so much it's driving me insane? What would Axl say if I told him that, right now?

I ruminate on it as I drive, thankful that the Camaro is fast, even if the price of that perk has sucked up a lot of the little money I have.

When I pull up to where Michelle waits on the downtown Los Angeles street the _R_ _olling Stone_ office is located on, she's yelling at me before she can even get in the car.

"Here you are!"

"Here I am," I grin, putting it in park.

She slides into the Camaro in a hurry, and I nearly get whiplash from her arms locking around me tightly.

"I miss you, Chas."

"I miss you too, McKagan."

"Sorry all I do is work now. I'm lame, I know," She mumbles into my shoulder.

The smell of her hairspray is overwhelming as I breathe, but it's comforting.

"You're not lame," I tell her. "I'm so happy for you, Michelle! Tell me all about it, everything I've missed."

I drive, and she talks. It's effortless. In all our years of friendship, I've known we would always be together forever because of that. Even if we do go two weeks without seeing each other (which is rare in itself), we pick right back up from where we left off without a hitch.

I can't get past the fact that Michelle resembles Duff more than anybody else in the entire world. She winds a lock of wavy hair around her finger as she talks, going a million miles a minute just like he does. Her hazel eyes are wide with each story she tells me about _Rolling Stone,_ and her laugh is deep, just like Duff's. She even smiles at me like him, her grin wide.

It only gets worse when she lights a cigarette, and rolls down the window.

"What?" She asks when I give her a look. "Axl smokes in here."

His name makes pain grow in my chest. I haven't heard it spoken in so long.

"Since when did you start?"

"Since I got my job, and my only options for stress relief are punching things, screaming, sex, and smoking cigarettes." Michelle exhales a cloud of smoke before continuing. "And rather than looking like a violent, loud, sex-crazed psycho in that office, I figured smoking was the safest option. Everybody does it," She shrugs.

"Fair enough," I say. "I don't know what I'm going to do once my job actually starts. Probably just curl up in a ball and die." That's meant to be sarcastic, but deep down, I actually believe it.

Michelle shakes her head at me. "Chas, you're going to be so amazing, and you're going to have so much fun in New York. I wish I could go with you just to see it, but they'd never let me just up and leave. Maybe one day. . ." She trails off thoughtfully, as if imagining us both glavanting off together. It makes me hopeful, too. If any of it even works out.

"Paul's already booked me more work," I groan. She didn't even know about that. "Two photoshoots, after New York. I don't even know if they're in town! They could be in Antarctica, for all I know."

Michelle lights up at the mention of Paul. "I love him-"

"You _love him,_ " I muse, mocking her at the same instant she says it.

She laughs as she flicks her cigarette outside the window. "I do! He's _so_ cool, Chas. I trust him, and you should too!"

"I just hope that that girl I told you about, Frances, is there or something. Now _she_ is cool," I say. "You have to meet her, you'd like her so much. She practically lost her mind when she met Duff, we _have_ to introduce her to everybody."

Michelle's lipstick painted lips turn down in a frown at the mention of her brother. "I miss him."

"Believe me, I _know_ how you feel."

"Asshole couldn't even be sober enough to say goodbye. . ." Michelle scolds, shaking her head. "And he doesn't even call. Tell Axl to tell him to call when you talk to him."

"I wish I could tell Axl to tell Michael to call, but that would require Axl calling first," I laugh darkly.

Michelle stares at me, confused. "What? Doesn't he call?"

"He's called once," My voice is grim.

We drop the subject as I pull into the parking lot of Mel's Diner. It's of course crowded, but Michelle and I still manage to hear each other talk in our booth once our waitress gets our order.

"So Axl," Michelle initates before she takes a sip of her tall chocolate milkshake.

I stir mine that's strawberry. The frozen glass makes my fingertips numb as I hold it for moral support. "Do you want to know how our last conversation went?"

"Yes. Do tell," Her eagerness is clear in her voice. She says nothing else as she sits up tall across from me, waiting.

"He called from somewhere in the midwest. They're like three hours ahead, and I think it must've been at least midnight there, and nine here. I was whispering so dad wouldn't hear me on the phone, which was nerve wracking enough. But honestly, I didn't talk much, because _we_ didn't talk much. It was all fluff," I tell her. "All I got to ask was how the shows have gone, if The Cult is as cool as they thought they'd be, how the bus is. Axl said yes to all of it, that the shows are packed, and it's nothing like they've ever seen before. He hasn't been sleeping well because the guys and the crew are all on the bus, and it's chaos, which I saw coming." Michelle and I both shudder at the mutual thought we exchange, the image of the bus vivid in both our heads. "And then, he was hurrying to say bye. He said, and I quote " _I've gotta run, Chassy. We've gotta get goin', I'll call-'"_ I end my sentence as abruptly as he did.

Michelle says nothing for a second before she nods. "Well, he did say to be patient with him," She references his first letter to me. I read it in it's entirety to her on the phone one day last week while she called on her lunch break.

I nod, fully in agreement. "I'm not mad," I say. "I just miss him so much."

I watch Michelle's face go from sympathetic to giddy in a matter of one second. "You know, you never told me what happened the night before they left."

Immediately, I know what she's thinking. It makes me bury my head in my hands, my ears burning red. "There's nothing to tell."

She leans forward now, keeping her voice quiet. "Oh my god, Chas. I _know_ something happened! He was so like. . ." She searches for what to say, and it makes me pull my head out of my hands to look at her. She's still close, her eyes moving rapidly. "He was so _different._ He called me, and he was so serious about it, getting me to help him so that you could sleep over. He kept saying that he didn't want you to know, that it was a secret. He told me to let him know if you ever said anything about not wanting to be with him like that, all alone. He was so concerned about you that he didn't believe me when I said that you'd be _thrilled._ He only went through with it because of all the convincing I did on your behalf," Michelle says, proud of herself, as if she's done me a huge favor.

I flush at the thought of Axl thinking and talking about me when I'm not there, and also at the knowledge that Michelle had the nerve to express even a little bit of my feelings to Axl. I could plummel her for it right here. But then my frustration over that entire night takes over my mind, and I don't think before I speak. "I don't know why he'd go through all that, just to. . . _To reject me._ " I look away again, frowning at the shiny tabletop.

" _Reject you?"_ Michelle repeats, her forehead scrunching up with confusion. "You're saying that-"

"Nothing happened," I confirm again. "We didn't. . . We didn't have _sex._ Not even close." I consider going back on that statement when I actually recall the details that make warmth flood me. My shirt on the floor. Axl's soft smile as he saw me in my bra for the first time. His hands brushing over the patterned straps. . . "I um-I _wanted to._ We were making out, and it was way more intense than any other times, but we didn't," I say simply. "He said no."

Michelle gawks now, eyes huge. "What?!" She shakes her head. "He kept stressing how important it was that I did _everything_ I could to keep the boys out _all night._ I did just that, because I was sure that if I didn't, Michael would walk in on you two-"

I don't let her finish her sentence. I'm too overwhelmed by the scene playing out in my head to watch it get to _that_ part. "Well, clearly he didn't mean it like that. I tried to uhm. . . Do something. I tried to tell him I wanted to, and he shut me down so fast. He said it wouldn't be good enough, it wouldn't be special enough. That since he was leaving in the morning, we couldn't do that. And I tried to argue with him, but he just wouldn't. He said no," I shrug, leaving out the part where I cried, not able to stomach the thought of her knowing that.

I watch Michelle's face becomes soft. She giggles warmly, her hands clutching at her heart. "Awh! Chas, he really does love you. Anybody else wouldn't have given it a second thought, but Axl. . ." She shakes her head, her jaw dropped as she looks at me. "He loves you so much. Probably more than I love you, even if it is different. He didn't reject you. He just wants to _wait."_

"Wait for what?" I ask frantically, genuinely wanting an answer. Her earlier sentiment makes me blush all over again, but I can't help but be consumed with everything she sees in this that I can't. I need to understand. "I'm not getting any younger! I'm an eighteen year old virgin. He's twenty-five, and goregous, and now he's on tour with his band. Lord knows how many girls are throwing themselves at him every night, and I don't even know it."

That last part has never really crossed my mind until now, and it makes me feel sick. Like I almost need to run to the bathroom, sick. _Oh my God. Girls, everywhere._ In every single city. In every single dressing room backstage. Maybe even on their bus. Pretty girls, who don't know that Axl Rose has a girlfriend back home, or would even care if they did know.

_And I can't even get a phone call back._

The jealousy lights up every bone in my body, and I can tell Michelle knows, but I don't care. For a split second, the thought of rushing home, locating tonight's venue in the tour itinerary, and then hopping on a plane straight there crosses my mind as a viable plan. I'd have to drain my bank account, but I'd make it. _Hm. . ._

"Chas," She starts, voice reasonable. "Are you _seriously_ insinuating that Axl would do something like _that?"_

"I mean, I really hope not," I say desperately.

Michelle goes serious. "He would _never._ I wish you could see the way he looks at you," She smiles, like she knows something I don't. I suppose she does. "He doesn't even bother to hide it anymore. Trust me, he would never do something like that to you. I would castrate him if he did, anyways. But he never would, so. . ."

"Then why would he-"

"Because," Michelle sighs. "His thinking makes sense. It would make his leaving twenty times harder if you became that close. And you're so attached to him, Chas. You should see how _you_ look at him," She tells me. "You look at him like-like he's God or something, Chas."

"Because he is god-like," I answer immediately. "He's the most beautiful person I'll ever know. He makes me self conscious sometimes because he's so perfect, inside and out. I just didn't know that was so. . . Apparent. "

"Well it is," She laughs. "God, you're both so much work! I think he's orchestrating an entire plan and involving me in it just so he can fuck you as much as he can before he leaves, but really, his only intentions are to cuddle you and feed you ice cream. Then there's you, who overthinks so much that you think there's a chance in hell that man could ever cheat on you, and that he 'rejected you,' when really, that's not the case at all. You two are _so_ dramatic! So in love that you can't even fuck, because it would just make you even more in love, and that's a bad thing. . . You're both _so_ gross. I feel bad for my brother, and the rest of them. They're probably having to put up with the most depressed version of Axl they've ever seen. Meanwhile, I'm stuck here with you and your delusions."

"Thanks, Michelle."

"Anytime," She grins.

Somehow, I'm able to get through the rest of lunch feeling lighter. Not totally at ease, because Axl isn't here, but also not as keyed up as I was earlier. Once we pay and get back in the car, we embark towards our first apartment.

The neighborhood's not so ideal for two young girls living alone, but the rent is cheap. Almost too cheap to be serious. Once we tour the exact unit that's available to us, we immediately make an unspoken decision off of one look to each other. The peeling paint, dingy kitchen, and flimsy doors are all deal breakers.

The second and third apartments are almost a total one-eighty of the first, but they're too much money. The deposit is triple the rent of the first place, but so nice inside that it's hard to say no, even though we'd never be able to afford it.

I'm about to suggest that we just move into the band's empty apartment that's already been paid for throughout the rest of the year, thanks to Geffen Records when we pull up to the fourth building of the day. We're a bit closer to Sunset now, maybe ten minutes from the guy's apartment, actually. This building is one I've seen before. I recognize the cheerful blue paint, and the manicured lawn out front of the leasing office.

The lady who shows us to the two bedroom apartment near the back of the building on the third floor is sweet, and babbles on as we head up the stairs about how she moved out to Los Angeles when she was our age. It makes Michelle and I both relax a bit. She's a nice change from the other people we've met today that have hardly taken us seriously.

"It's not too big for you girls, is it?"

The woman's voice is warm from where she waits for us in the doorway as we walk through the apartment on our own. The white walls are crisp, and I can smell the fresh coat of paint in every room. The living room and kitchen are one big space, and the small balcony off the living room overlooks Sunset just a couple blocks over. The bathroom has enough room for the two of us to put all our things in it, but unlike apartment three, it doesn't have a whirlpool tub, just a normal, claw-foot one.

Mentally, I recall the numbers the nice lady was reading off to us earlier. A small deposit, all utilities included in each month's rent. It seems doable. A good medium between the terrible place, and the two too-nice places.

Michelle and I speak at exactly the same instant.

"We'll take it."


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How's the tour going," You ask? Time to find out! Also, Izzy speaks in this one. 
> 
> TW: mentions of drugs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Axl's POV!

Every day it gets more and more diffcult to keep up appearances. 

I know that instead of wedging myself into the corners of each dressing room to keep as far as possible from all the debauchery every single night, I should be on the phone with Chas. Or better yet, I should be at home, with her. Not here, currently avoiding all the barely dressed women running circles around my bandmates. 

"C'mon Axl!" Slash waves frantically. "Come hang out!" 

His words make my stomach lurch, like I've had too much to drink. But alcohol never makes me feel sick anymore. The thought of other women does. 

"I'm cool," I tell him. "It's about time I turn in. Gotta rest up, or else my voice can't take it. You know how I am." 

Tonight's one of the lucky few we get to stay up in a hotel. Nothing too special, but it's a hell of a lot better than the bus. Izzy's supposed to be rooming with me, but that's only if he even makes it up the room. Probably not, with all that he's most likely getting into right now. 

Duff's drug-induced wide eyes almost scare me as he walks through the doorway and comes to stand between Slash and I in the middle of the room, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a normal sight now at days.

"There you are, Ax."

"Here I am."

Duff heads right for the catering table, shaky hands fixing himself a drink. "Come have fun with us. Ian's got all these girls, but of course there's the drugs, too -" 

"I know," I stop him, unable to handle the eagerness in his voice. "I'm tired, man. The kids were so loud tonight, and you know how fuckin' shitty security was. My throat feels like it's on fire. I'm gonna head out." 

Even through his hair, I see Slash eye me suspiciously. Duff's stare is enpty, his face is blank. _Whatever cocktail he's on. . ._

"Dude," Slash says, dumbfounded. "You haven't hung out once after a show." 

"Not true," I counter. "I hang out all the time." _I just dip out once you guys start with all your shit._

"No, you don't," Duff disagrees before lifting the red plastic cup in his hands. He takes a long drink, and I use that time to really get my lie down solid. "You never stick around for the _real_ fun. You haven't done coke with me in forever-" 

"It's not good for my voice," I say simply. _It's not good for my relationship. Not for me, or for Chas. I don't need to fill myself up with vices anymore._

Duff rolls his eyes. "Yeah. Okay." 

Just as I'm about to remind them that they're wasting precious time that could be spent with all the groupies in The Cult's dressing room by standing here interrogating me, Duff hits me with a curveball. 

"God, it's like you're. . . In love, or some shit. You're so fuckin' boring lately. You've hardly punched any walls, and it's been weeks! You're going soft. What, do you have some _girl_ you're holding out for? I give it a week before you're not just _flirting_ with girls, but _fucking_ them, too! Get the stick out of your ass, Axl. Go talk to them. Get drunk. Get high. I'm tired of you bein' on the fuckin' sidelines, all alienated and shit." 

All I can do is try to keep my composure at what he's suggesting, even if he doesn't know it, not at all. Red tinges my vision. My hands itch, bad. 

'C'mo _n, Ax! Get shitfaced with us! Flirt with a bunch of girls, even if you don't know their names!_ Cheat on my little sister, Axl. Break her heart, and in turn, your own. _Live your life! Rock n' roll! We made it, now let's have fun!"_

My jaw hurts as I open my mouth to speak from how tightly I had it clenched. "I'm going to the hotel. If you two and the others aren't on the bus at nine on the dot tomorrow morning, I will personally hunt you down, and fuck your shit up. _See ya!_ " 

I walk past Duff, and the thought that comes to mind is too good to pass up. 

"And for the love of fucking God, if you go any further than just talking, use a goddamn condom. Imagine what Mandy would say if you came home from tour and had to tell her that some girl from _Kansas_ is demanding all your money in the name of child support." 

Duff's infidelity to Mandy is nothing new. The _entire_ _band's_ infidelity, really. They're all unfaithful in the sense that they have no issues hanging out after shows and flirting with the girls the roadies give backstage passes to. They drink together, have laughs, sit too close together. I watched Steve make out with one a few nights ago. It hardly leads to sex, but I wouldn't put it past any of them to not think twice about it. I also wouldn't put it past Mandy, Sally, Angela, or Adriana for not giving any of their guys the time of day. They're smart girls. I'm sure they've figured it out by now that there's women all over the place, at every show. Every time we've had access to a phone, I'm the only one who jumps at the opportunity to use it. I don't see anyone else writing letters, but then again, I make sure they don't see me either. 

All I can be thankful for right now is that Alan made a bucket of new, fresh condoms a staple at every show on our rider. The last thing I need is to lie awake at night more than I already do, and add the possibilities of spawns of Guns N' Roses running around to my worries, even if I've hardly seen anybody grab them to use for the intended purpose. Slash mostly makes balloon art. 

Him and Duff don't say anything else to me as I walk out of the room, out into the hall. I leave Duff's guilt and Slash's shock in my dust. It's quickly replaced with the bass of the music playing from The Cult's dressing room as I pass by. 

A split second glance into the doorway is all I need to confirm what I already know. All the paraphernalia is on display, and Steven and Izzy mingle amongst it all. I duck my head as I hurry on past, not pausing to observe the scene any further. 

Back at the hotel, the shower doesn't take long to get hot. I've always liked it steaming. Tonight, I use it to fill the void, the one left in Chasity's wake. 

I go back and forth on whether or not I should call tonight. The phone out on the nightstand practically calls out my name. Last I checked, it was eleven in Los Angeles. It's become a habit to always know what time it is at home. It makes me wonder what she's doing. _How_ she's doing. The worst part is that I haven't had any answers to that. I'm the asshole who hasn't called back, who hasn't been able to find a damn mailbox to send out the four letters buried at the bottom of my suitcase this whole time. 

The pang echoing through my chest stings more than the hot water beating down heavy on my back. She probably won't even pick up the phone. She's probably so fed up with me. Duff is right. I am soft, but I don't care. She makes me soft, and I love her for it. It's hard to recognize that version of myself when I'm so far away from her. . . 

_Chas, somewhere near sleep, curled up in a ball. The pillows on her bed are the same color as her flushed pink cheeks, her lips red from biting at them angrily_ _. Wondering why I haven't called, haven't written. Frustrated. Annoyed. Overthinking, worrying._

I think about how I wish I could console her. Climb into her bed, even though it's too small for me, and wrap my arms around her. Tell her how much I love her, that I hate she's hurting. Kiss her. Breathe in how sweet she always smells. Feel the velvet of her skin. Hear her voice, all hushed because her family is just down the hall. _"Axl. . ."_

I cut the shower short, unable to wait any longer. My hair drips down my back as I quickly tug on a pair of sweatpants in the empty hotel room before finally sitting down with the phone. The clock reads midnight in Los Angeles now, making me reconsider. 

If I wake her up, I'll feel horrible. If she's already awake, I'll probably still feel bad that it's so late. If I leave her a voicemail, that means I'll have missed her, but it's better than nothing. 

The dial tone picks up the second I finish punching in her number by heart. I honestly don't know what outcome I'm hoping for as I wait, my leg bouncing up and down anxiously. 

_"Hi, it's Chas! Sorry I didn't answer, please leave me a message and I'll call you back!"_

My eyes close from bliss as I listen to her soft voice, even if it is just a recording, and only lasts a few seconds. Hearing her drives me _crazy_. Already, I feel more awake, more alive. I can hear my heartbeat in my chest, and I hope that she can hear the smile in my voice when she plays my message back. 

"Hi Chassy, it's me. I'm sorry I'm calling you so late, and that it's been so long since I've spoken to you. I'm an asshole, I know. Also a dumbass, because I can't seem to find a mailbox in any of the cities we've been in to send out the four _extremely_ long, detailed letters that are just for you," I laugh, hoping that makes her excited, gives her something to look forward to. Then I realize that I probably need to hurry up, before it cuts me off. "I hope you're not too upset with me. I miss you more than you know, and every spare second I have, I'm thinking about you. I'll try my hardest to call you again tomorrow, sweetheart. I-" 

The beep that sounds tells me that I've used up all the time I have, and it happens right when I'm about to say the riskiest part of my entire message. Chas has made it clear to me that any messages I leave her should be neutral. Not too many details, concise. Her parents don't pry much, but she likes to be careful. I almost feel thankful that I didn't get to say what I was so close to declaring. _Too soft,_ just as Duff said.

My hand hovers over the hook, about to set the phone down on it when the door gets thrown open. I jump on instinct, tensing, like I'm ready for a fight. I suppose I am-it wouldn't be the first time on this tour. 

"Hey!" Annoyance bites into my words, seeping loudly into my voice. I hardly recognize myself compared to a few seconds ago, but it doesn't matter. 

Izzy barrels in, the door swinging shut with a swift " _click!"_ as he looks at me. I realize that I still have the phone in my hand. My grip is so tight that I'm worried I might smash it into pieces. I ease up a bit. The last thing I want to hear is Doug bitching to me at check-out in the morning about a broken phone being added to the tab. 

"What'cha doin'?!" 

I fire right back at Izzy, no hesitation. "What are _you_ doing? You're supposed to be high as a kite with The Cult right now." 

He just shrugs his shoulders. From all the way over here, I can smell the booze on him. Even something sugary- _perfume_. It makes my nose burn. "Got bored. Duff was complaining about you so much that I wanted to throw a T.V. at his head or something. He totally killed the mood. Slash, too."

Before I can make a smartass comment about Duff's attitude, Izzy speaks again. 

"Plus, I knew what you were up to." 

The stillness that immediately sets into my bones is uncomfortable. I don't breathe. My hand becomes a statute around the phone, going red. 

"How's Chas?" 

I just stare at Izzy, and he just stares at me. 

In the twelve years that I've known him, there have been very little secrets. When we first met, I was so angry and insane that I had no problems openly bitching about my parents, about the Lafayette cops, about how much I fucking hated that town. And once I came to L.A., I made it a mission to hunt down Izzy. He was the only person I knew, and the only person who knew that I was serious about singing, and finding people to make music with. He was my advocate, the one who convinced Slash, Duff, and Steve to give me a chance. We eventually all lived in a little box together near Sunset, some disgusting storage unit back before we signed with Geffen. It was infested with rats, and the only meals we ate were ones paid for by the record labels. If we made it through that, we can make it through anything. I'd trust him with my life. 

But can I trust him with the biggest secret of them all, the only one I truly have? The best thing that's ever happened to me? 

I haven't breathed a word about Chasity to him. Not once. I've lied to Izzy just as I've lied to the rest of our bandmates. 

"How's Chas?" Izzy asks again, gesturing towards the phone. 

When I don't answer, let alone breathe, he huffs impatiently. 

"Have you gone catatonic _again_? Ax, did she pick up the phone, or what?" 

"How do you know." It comes out more as a statement than a question.

_Izzy knows. Izzy knows, and I never even told him. He. Just._ Knows. _Fuck_. 

My confession makes him crack a grin. "How could I _not_ know?" 

"How long have you known."

"That depends," He chuckles. "How long has it been?" 

My mind whips into a frenzy, trying to remember. A lot of my life has been erased, I can't recall more than half of it. But all my memories that include Chas are so bright, so alive. That day she just kissed me, out of nowhere. When she asked if I had a girlfriend, which I still think is ridiculous. The last time I saw her, laying in my bed, in my clothes. Our Denny's date, how she finally agreed to be together for real. 

"Since June, officially. But I guess. . . A couple months before that, really." 

He nods, like he's agreeing. "I knew the second she started acting funny," Izzy laughs before he starts shaking his head. "How did it happen?" 

I bite my tongue. _Oh, God. I don't wanna tell Izzy that the first thing I did with her was kiss her in the front seat of my car-for_ _months._

"Well-er, it just happened." 

Izzy raises one eyebrow. I finally set the damn phone down. 

"You just spur of the moment began dating our best friend's little sister? Who was uh, let's see," Izzy looks up to the ceiling, concentrating. "Seventeen, at the time?" 

We both know that sounds bad. Really bad. Detrimental. Creepy. Even if that's not how it happened, and we both know it. Even if he's just trying to get it out of me. 

It works. I hurry to defend myself, to defend Chasity. 

"Remember that kid Dylan? The one who kept messing with her? Well, one day, Chas just like, had this idea. Maybe if he saw her with somebody else, with a guy, he'd back off. And I had picked her up, and here comes that kid, and, well. . ." 

Izzy decides he doesn't want to piece it together from what I have and haven't said. "Well, keep going! What the fuck happened, Axl?" 

"She-she just, she kissed me! She kissed me first, and it was fucking history, man. And it only made Dylan worse, but I guess we just. . . Didn't care," I shrug. "Until it blew up in our faces, and I realized that I loved her-" 

"You should see the way you look at each other," Izzy says, smirking. "Makes me sick, in a good way. I can't believe nobody else has noticed." 

That last part makes me relax a bit. Izzy's observant, and sometimes shares what he sees. Back when we were trying to get signed to the best deal possible, he was the one who we counted on to do the negotiating. He could tell which record executives were desperate to have us, who were being genuine-and he also could tell which ones were fuckers trying to screw us over. Knowing that he's kept what he saw to himself makes me feel more calm, less weird. For a second, I worried it was completely out of the bag, and everyone was just too stunned to say anything.

"Michelle knows," I tell him. "Chas said she couldn't keep it a secret from her for long. It was eating her alive, not being able to tell Michelle." 

Izzy nods just as he has been, like I'm confirming what he already knows. "But you didn't tell any of us," He notes with a laugh. "Duff is going to kill you slowly once he finds out. Like, seriously rip you apart. Chop you into a million little pieces. . ." 

I nod, confirming what _I_ already know. "Well, what can I do? I can't not be with her, Iz. If only you knew. . ." 

"I do know. But no amount of convincing is gonna soften the blow, Axl. He's going to fucking loose his _mind_. And frankly, I'm afraid for it all. I'm afraid for the band. I mean, it's really serious. His kid sister. . . He practically helped raise her, and here you come in. You're the first person she's ever been with, huh? I don't think I've ever seen her with anybody, or mention it. . . Duff sure as hell hasn't." 

"Yeah. I am." All I can do is stare at the floor. I try not to think about how every single day, our actions and feelings could rip the band apart. Duff is _my_ brother. The band isn't just me-it's him. It's Steve. It's Izzy. It's Slash. And I don't know what will happen when he finds out. How he'll take it. We can't keep it a secret forever. Every single day, it gets harder and harder. "I'm the first person she's ever loved." 

I look up when Izzy doesn't say anything for a few moments. He shuffles back and forth, hands in his pockets. "Have you. . . Have you, uh-" 

"No. No," I admit quickly. _Never did I ever think I'd be talking about sex with Chasity with Izzy. . ._ Jesus Christ. 

His face screws up then as he quickly looks at me. "What?" 

"I said no," I repeat. 

His expression doesn't falter. "Seriously? Well, that's a fucking first. . ." He becomes surprised now, taken aback. "Wow." 

I just shake my head. "I _love her_ , you sick fuck. I'm not doing anything she's not ready for." 

_But she does_ want _to,_ my subconscious reminds me. _She was begging, remember?_

_Doesn't mean she's ready,_ I counter. 

There was no way in hell I was going to give into her that easily that night. There was no way I would do that, and then leave. I haven't even really talked to her in weeks. I don't even want to think about how badly that would hurt if we had had sex for the first time the night before I left her. How painful it would be to leave, and for her to be left after that. To be as close as humanly possible, and then just have it all ripped away the following morning, as if it meant nothing. It means _everything_. 

That would be traumatizing for not only Chas, but for me, too. 

But God, do I want to. I want to be with her that way so bad. It's taken all my self control to restrain myself when I'm with her. I was so close to ripping off her shorts and tearing through her panties that last night, when she took a break from sucking on my fingers to beg me to take her virginity. I want it more than she does, and she doesn't even know it. 

"Damn, Ax," Izzy mumbles. "I was just. . . _Asking._ Just curious to see how much trouble we're all in for. You two, plus Michelle and I. Duff's going to crucify us all, and I just want to know if taking virginity will be a count against us. You better keep it holy for as long as possible, you know. Duff will probably be _much_ happier that way. Although, I don't know how you do it. You're the horniest person I know, I can't believe you have the self-control to just not have sex. And I know you would never cheat. You're truly a saint, you know that? It's so obvious you love her so much. You're such a hopeless romantic. But I really, _really_ don't know how I'm the only one who's noticed. Everybody else is just a bunch of fucking idiots!-"

"Okay, I get it!" I manage to cut Izzy off finally, both my palms facing him in the air. "Glad we got all this past us! You've thoroughly fucking exhausted me. Let's not speak about this again unless it's in private. Lord knows Duff _will_ nail us to crosses. Goodnight." 

Izzy contests, sighing. "Okay, fine. You two really do make me fucking sick, in a good way. Night, man." Izzy grins just before he disappears into the bathroom. 

My mind reels as I hear the shower turn on a second later, and I wonder how I'm going to tell Chasity that another person is in on our secret. 


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chas goes to New York City!

Paul's hand extends into the cab, waiting to help me out onto the slick sidewalk.

"Now is not the time to worry, Chasity. Let's go. Your appointment started ten minutes ago. We can't afford to miss it."

Much like the dark sky, my eyes are ready to start pouring at any second. I haven't even been in New York City for ten minutes, and already the experience is straight out of a horror movie.

Begrudgingly, I let Paul pull me out of the bright yellow taxi. The sidewalk is crowded with people, even with the bad weather. Paul doesn't let go of my hand as we fall in line with the crowds. He's probably afraid I'll run away before we can reach the Upper East side salon he said he's taking me to.

Without a word, he veers us to the right side of the sidewalk, stopping just before a set of double doors, which he holds open for me. I mumble a thank you as my palms start to sweat. The second I step inside, I'm expecting to hear all the typical sounds. Blowdryers, talking, hairspray cans. But, it's silent once the door closes behind Paul. The sounds of the New York City streets are muffled already, almost too far away.

"What kind of salon is this?" I look up at him as he continues strutting past me in that way he usually does. Somehow, he looks even more posh here in New York than in Los Angeles.

"The kind you've never been to before," He muses, smirking. "Get used to it."

The short hallway we walk down opens up to the front desk, and a waiting area. I stand against the wall as Paul goes up to one of the ladies behind the glossy desk. All of them stare at me as Paul exchanges words too low for me to hear. When I look away to escape their eyes, I realize that the floor is a crisp marble. My dirty converse look out of place standing on it. _No wonder they're staring._

As Paul turns back to me and gestures to follow him, I almost don't move. I contemplate _running._ Running out this fancy salon, clutching at my hair for dear life, just like he thought I would out on the street. But instead, I just trudge after him without a word.

He didn't _say_ we were here to cut my hair. But it doesn't matter. Even the mere chance of it happening is too much for me. I _won't_ cut it.

The further we go into the salon, the louder and the more expensive it gets. All the hairdressers and the people in their chairs look like they belong on the cover of magazines. The fancy lights and big mirrors everywhere only help them out, highlighting and reflecting their beautiful faces and features and clothes everywhere. As I catch a glimpse of Paul and I in one of those big mirrors as we hurry past, I can't help but think he fits in, and I look even more out of place the longer I'm here.

When we pause in front of an open station and the gorgeous woman standing beside the empty salon chair looks right at me, I realize I've finally met my demise.

"Chasity Novelo." The woman says my name in her accented voice like it means more to her than I understand. "Paul has told me so much about you. I'm Shannon."

The more she speaks, it finally registers that she must be from somewhere in France.

"Hi Shannon, it's nice to meet you." I have to force the words out of myself. _Run. Run, now. She's the one who's going to cut it all off. Run_ _!_

"The pleasure is all mine," Shannon clasps my hand for a moment before looking to Paul. "You're _late_. If you weren't one of my best friends, I'd have turned you away already," She chuckles while moving in for a hug.

Paul laughs, too. "Yes, well, I can't make planes at JFK touch down myself. Chasity's flight was running behind, and I had to go fetch her from baggage claim. You know I don't leave my girls to fend for themselves."

"You're too good," Shannon says, shaking her head at Paul with a serious look. "Well, we better get to work. Fashion Week starts tomorrow, and I have six more appointments today after you. Then it's backstage for an entire week. The busiest and best time of the entire season," She sighs. As I observe her, I realize she looks tired. Exhausted, really. But then her perfect face snaps back together like it never even faltered as she meets my eyes again. "God, how rude of me! Please, sit, love."

I have no choice but to do as she says. Her elegant hands meet my shoulders, and move me into the leather chair before one of those massive mirrors. The black cape she throws up in the air feels cold as it flows over my body, ready to shield me from all the hair she's about to chop off. My eyes start to water again, and in the mirror, I see Paul has an amused look on his face.

"What's wrong?!" Shannon cries, looking at my reflection. Her hands come to rest on my covered shoulders again. I decide that it's comforting, and if she wasn't about to do the worst, I would really like her already.

"Chasity thinks I brought her to you to cut her hair," Paul answers for me. "The second I told her we were going to a hair salon, she's been on the verge of tears. I tried to tell her we weren't going to be doing any buzz cuts or angled bobs today, but I don't think she trusts me yet."

My hands shoot out from underneath the cape, reaching up to my hair. I don't have to go far-it's is almost to my waist now. "Please, _don't_." It's all I can manage right now as my eyes flicker back and forth to Paul, then Shannon.

They both laugh.

Shannon gingerly peels my hands away as she pulls my hair back, out of reach and into her own hands. "I would not _dare,_ Chasity. It's so beautiful!" Her eyes are wide as she runs her fingers through it. "So thick, with all these waves and curls. Very, _very_ beautiful. I work with _a lot_ of models all the time, and not a single one has hair like you. You _are_ special, just as Paul says."

I blush from her words and the relief I feel. "Thank you."

Then, Shannon pats my shoulders once before turning the chair around quickly. "Now, trust me."

"What?!"

Paul speaks as Shannon's muscial laugh sounds from somewhere behind me. "You can't know what we have planned for you, that would ruin the makeover! It's a surpise."

"But-"

"You got your confirmation that Shannon won't cut it short."

"But-"

"No _buts,_ Chas. You're going to look fabulous!" Paul looks down at me with sincerity in his eyes. Today is the very first day he's begun using my chosen name, using Chas. When he first found me in the airport, waiting for my suitcase, he said my name, Chas, so loud it startled me. I'll never forget it.

As Shannon gets to work and Paul leaves to make some calls, I try to surrender to them both. I recall their promises over and over and over again, until Shannon speaks.

"This is your first Fashion Week, huh?"

"Yes," I nod for a second, until I remember I should probably sit still. My eyes focus on the cracks and curves in the marble floor as I speak. "My first time modeling _ever._ "

Shannon gasps behind me. "Oh my. You _are_ brand new. Paul didn't tell me that."

I laugh, not surprised. The more time I spend with him, the more I realize he likes to keep details under wraps unless (or until) they're necessary. "He found me at the mall in Los Angeles. Ever since, none of this has felt real."

"How do you like New York City? To me, it's very different from Paris. It must also be very different from California for you."

"It is," I agree. "The last time I was here, I was six. This is my first time traveling alone."

Both my mom and my dad are from New York City. They met here in college, and moved to Los Angeles just before having me. Our last visit was as a family, but now I'm here for _work,_ which sounds weird in itself. I feel like I'm still too young to have a job. Like I should still be in the third grade. Riding bikes with Michelle after school. Playing guitar with Duff, and annoying him by banging loudly on his drumset. Not in New York City alone, less than twenty-four hours away from making money by walking down a runway in expensive clothes while having my picture taken.

In four days days, the Guns N' Roses Appetite for Destruction tour arrives in town. Until then, all I have in this city is Paul, and my suitcase. Michelle is back in L.A., busy at the _Rolling Stone_ office. My mom has her hands full raising Shawn and Layla and looking after our house. My dad is in the courtroom, just as he always has been. Axl and the boys are on their first big tour. And I'm _here._ It all feels unreal. This has been the plan for months, ever since the casting, and it still doesn't seem like real life. 

"You're going to do very well," Shannon says. "All of Paul's girls are wonderful. I'm sure you are no exception."

Just as I'm about to say thank you, I hesitate. "Can I be honest?"

Unlike me, Shannon doesn't hesitate as she works on my hair, doing whatever it is she's doing. All I feel is light tugging every now and then. "Yes, please do."

"I don't know what I'm doing. I don't even know what it's like, backstage and everything. You said you work at Fashion Week?"

"I'm hardly ever here," Shannon says, referring to the salon all around us. "I mostly work on set, at photoshoots and backstage at fashion shows. I started in Paris, then I came here, to New York. I travel almost constantly, going wherever photographers and designers need me. I'm sure I'll even see you often. I try to work with Paul and his girls as much as possible. We've known each other a very long time. He was just brand new too, when I first met him. And look at him now. He's unstoppable," Shannon laughs, which makes me laugh.

I might not know what I'm doing, or know a lot about fashion, but I'm trying. I've talked to Frances on the phone a few times since I saw her at the casting, and she's told me a lot about what she's seen and done. One thing Frances also mentioned? Paul is one of the most respected agents in the industry. He had something to do with Gia Carangi, a beautiful girl I myself remember seeing all over billboards and magazines a couple years ago. She's had a lot of personal problems, but as Frances said; _"People in fashion_ never _forget."_ And Paul's influence was not forgotten.

Now, I'm with him, and I'm terrified that the only thing I'll do all week is not only embarass myself, but him, too.

Shannon doesn't let me get too involved in my thoughts as she continues to do my hair. She keeps us both talking, asking questions about everything, even when Paul comes back and sits in the vacant chair beside mine.

The two of them play off each other as they include me in the conversation, and for a while, I don't feel so otherworldly. Like this is right where I'm supposed to be. I don't think about what Michelle is doing, or my parents. I don't worry about falling on my face tomorrow, or the next day. I don't worry about where I'm apparently sleeping all week, The Model Apartment (as Frances calls it,) which is home to any and all Elite models in New York when they visit the city. I don't even think about Axl.

Not until Shannon asks if I have a boyfriend.

It's hard to see anyone's face with how Shannon has my head positioned, my chin tucked close to my chest. I think she's doing something with tinfoil-shiny metal caught my eye earlier. When I say nothing, and do nothing, both of them do _everything_.

"I think that means a yes, no?"

"Definitely a yes, Shan. Ugh, I can't believe I never thought to ask this earlier! Chasity Grace has a boy toy!"

I almost blurt out _"do not!"_ Maybe it's embarassment, or maybe it's the fact that I have to compulsively lie in front of everyone I know besides Michelle. Either way, my actual response takes a lot of strength to spit out. "What does it matter."

"Oh, c'mon!" Paul moans. "Chas, you're too pretty to be a single girl! I know all those boys in little Pasadena, California were in _lo-ove_ with you," He teases in singsong.

"Nobody ever liked me," I scoff. _Besides one. . ._ I shudder as I think about it, but luckily I don't feel Shannon's hands in my hair. She must be grabbing something. "I'm serious!"

"No, _I'm_ serious!" Paul counters boldly. "Tell us about him. I already know he's real cute!"

For a moment, I really do consider it.

_What's the harm? They don't know Duff. They don't know anybody I do, actually. Besides Frances, at least._ Frances. _She could find out if they found out. And although I already love her, once she starts talking, she doesn't stop. She's supposed to come with me to the band's show in a couple days. If I tell Paul now, and he brings up Axl to Frances, she'd never keep it a secret._

I better not.

"Remember how I told you my dad is a criminal lawyer?"

"Yes, I do. But what's that got to do with your boy toy? Are you trying to change the subject?"

"Well, my dad would probably create an entire fake crime just to get my alleged boyfriend behind bars, and away from me! That's how upset he would be if I had a boyfriend. He says I'm not allowed to date until I'm twenty-five," I say. My voice doesn't waver once, and that's because everything I say is the truth.

Except for the fact that my dad wouldn't have to construct an entire fake crime for Axl. He could probably just put the pieces together from actual, real life.

Paul drops the subject, and I suppose that Shannon is too focused to do anything but follow in his footsteps. Once she says we're getting up to walk to a shampoo bowl, I start to feel anxious about what I'm going to look like when she's done with me. The hot water and lavender scented shampoo helps calm my nerves, but not by much when we get back to the chair, and I'm still not allowed to see what's going on. I realize that she's making my hair straight once a big, round brush is being taken through my waves, and a blowdryer nozzle is pressed flat against each section. It takes a while, and I begin to recognize the hunger pangs in my stomach. The last time I ate was breakfast, back in L.A. I wonder how much time has passed. I haven't seen a clock in I don't know how long.

"Okay. Are you ready, love?"

My eyes are already wide as I feel Shannon's absence on my head, and the blowdryer she was using clicks off. "I'm _dying."_

After she turns my chair back to the mirror, no one has any words. I'm the first to eventually speak.

"I've never been blonde before."

The colors change as my hand glides through the hair over my shoulders. Dark chocolate, to rich caramel, to _real_ blonde. By the time my fingertips are at the smoothly blown ends, it's a warm champagne. The brightest pieces are near my face, framing my cheeks and eyes. I have to convince myself that this even is my face, my hair, my body. It's hard to recognize myself-my hair hasn't been straight in months. It looks even longer now than it does wavy. And _so_ _blonde._

"I only lightened a few pieces, it's subtle." Shannon gets to undoing the cape. She flicks it away swiftly, all dramatic. It makes my now bouncy, voluminous hair blow away from my face like a commercial. I remain still, staring.

"You look great, Chasity." Paul rests a hand on my t-shirt covered shoulder. He's brief, but I can tell he does it because he's worried.

I realize that I should probably reassure them that they both have absolutely no reason to be. "I love it."

And I do. It's _not_ subtle to me, even though Shannon thinks so. It looks totally different, new. But nonetheless, it's what I needed. I've never changed my hair. I've looked the same for my entire life, and now's the perfect time for something like this. Everything is evolving, so why shouldn't I?

After hugs for Paul and I, Shannon walks us out of the salon. They both move briskly, and in turn, so do I. It feels more natural now as we glide past all the beautiful people and their reflections. It becomes hard to pick out which one is me amongst them all. The stares from earlier no longer exist, and I think I begin to understand that this is what it feels like to exist in this world, even if I've hardly set foot in it yet.

Once Shannon waves goodbye and promises she'll see me again soon, Paul makes _me_ hail our cab. At first, I'm mildly afraid as I get closer to the curb, cars speeding past us, only inches away. But when I raise my arm up into the air and a bright yellow taxi stops a lane over, it feels so natural.

After Paul tells the driver that we're headed towards an address near Central Park, I wonder what's happening now. _Probably the Model Apartment. Meeting my new roomates. . . Oh, God._

I decide that practically getting a total makeover and stopping New York City traffic is enough adventure for today. I brace myself as I get ready to ask Paul about what I already know we're racing towards.

"We're going to the Model Apartment now, aren't we."

"Nope," Paul says. "We're going to the _hotel._ "

"Hotel? Frances said that-"

Paul waves me off the second I say Frances' name. "Chas, do you seriously believe that I would just throw you to the sharks your first job? Your very _first_ trip away from home?"

When I say nothing, he continues on, laughing.

"I don't know what our girl Fran told you about the Model Apartment, but _I_ will tell you that every new girl who goes to stay in one on her first job gets freaked out. All the girls talk and try to give advice, and it does more harm than good. You'd probably like it there besides all of them trying to coach you, but I can't take the chance of you throwing up backstage tomorrow morning. You're already a flight risk," Paul asserts. "So up in a hotel you'll stay."

I ignore him basically calling me a delinquent model. "Wait-I'm getting an entire hotel room to myself?"

"Honey, I love you, but I'm not gonna be your roommate, too."

"This is awesome!" I raise my fists in the air as I shout. It makes Paul laugh out loud, and the driver's dark eyes stare at me warily in the rearview mirror. "Sorry, sorry! But seriously?!"

"Yes. _But_ there's a catch."

"Which is?"

"Once we get to the room, you have to stay there. Getting enough sleep is one of the most important things in this job, Chasity Grace. If you don't take care of yourself, this job will _make_ you."

I just nod, a lot. Being around Paul is like being a student, or a prodigy of something. It's like when Duff would teach me to read notes, or play a certain song and stay on time, or how to tune a guitar properly. Except now, I'm being lectured on shoes, and beauty rest, and who Gianni Versace is.

_It doesn't feel real. . . It doesn't feel real._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! The day I'm writing this note is 6/12/2020! As of today, this chapter is the most recent and I'm currently working on ch. 39. You can follow me on Tumblr to stay up to date on when it'll be coming out! Subscribe to get notified of when ch. 39 is out! All visuals for past chapters are up on Tumblr as well (not every chapter has a visual) and as of today, you can still find me on Wattpad too. Chapters are current there as well! I really hope you like this story so far! Leave me a comment if you want, I LOVE comments! Thank you for reading 💕💕💕


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chasity freaks out, Frances remains calm, and Paul is Paul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visual for this chapter is up on Tumblr! Hope you like it! 💕💕

Calling the entire area behind the fancy curtains the _"Backstage"_ part of a runway show is a nice way of saying it's a locker room.

Everything is covered in a thin layer of powder makeup and hairspray. Vanities, big mirrors with Hollywood-style bulbs are arranged in long rows, back-to-back. Even then, there's not enough room for all of us to get ready. People are packed in like sardines, and every time someone from catering puts out a new tray of sandwiches or salad, it's gone within five minutes. Girls sit on the floor, in random chairs, or lean against one of the hundreds of available clothing racks. Some girls look cool and calm. Those are the veterans. They know how to do their makeup just right, how to twirl and spin, how to pose. They've done this a hundred times, maybe more. They're all fully done up now, their designer outfit chosen for them already on. Other girls are a nervous wreck. The new ones, the inexperienced, the uncertain. Pacing, unable to sit still, trying to practice strutting in the too-big heels of their first outfit. I _know_ which category I fit into.

"Hold still, Chas," Frances huffs in her accent. It gets more intense when she's in times of crisis, and I'm sure that covering my acne with Maybelline is Model Mission Impossible.

"We don't have time," I tell her, trying to look her in the eye. She's completely ready. She was instructed to leave her hair as is, pin-straight and long. Her makeup, which she did without anyone's help, is glamorous but still natural. Meanwhile, I still have rollers in my hair. Neither of us have changed. Paul said he would visit us, but we've been backstage for over an hour and there's been no sign of him. I was hoping to see him, to get some sort of last minute prayer in, with his words as the Grace.

_God, if you're listening, please don't let me fall. Please don't let me make a fool of myself, or of Paul. Please let me live to see Axl after all this. It would really, really suck to die on a slick runway in front of hundreds of people. Thanks._

"You've got to calm down-Oh, sorry!" Frances ducks her head as an arm reaches above her to take a lipstick tube from another girl's hand. "It's going to pass by so quick that you won't even know it's over. We only have two outfits, anyways."

"Frances Hall. _I have never done this before._ You can't just try to tell me that it'll be fine, because it won't be. I don't even have the clothes on!" I feel stuck to the chair beneath me as I stare up at Frances. She wears a long nightgown, the same one she said she slept in last night. _"So there's no red marks on my skin, they hate that. . ."_ She looks funny still in her pajamas while her face and hair are literally runway-ready. Meanwhile, I'm in a t-shirt and jeans. Paul didn't see me before I left the hotel today. If he did, he probably would've put me in a similar get-up to Fran. I'm sure I'll be the only one with red marks from my tight jeans. A lot of girls are in lounge-like clothes. Lots of sweatpants, sweaters, pajama shorts, baggy t-shirts. If I had known. . . _Sorry, Paul._

"We _do not_ have time for this!" Frances exclaims, finally agreeing with me. "You're right! We don't! But we can't freak out-"

"Well, you're making _me_ freak out by being so calm-"

"My first show was _even worse_ , and I still kept level-headed about it."

"You're _you,_ though." I shake my head, which makes the room feel like it's spinning even more. "We don't have time! I'm going to find my clothes."

Frances doesn't stop me, or follow me as I get up, wandering off to where I saw my rack earlier. The one with my name on it isn't too far, and nearby, is a woman in all black. All the important people here are dressed in similar attire, which makes it easy to spot them. Before I can even try to unzip one of the two garment bags boldly labeled _"CHASITY NOVELO",_ that woman is hurrying over.

As she helps me into the clothes I only wore briefly this morning for ten minutes to make sure the back could be zipped, I start to _really_ panic, but not because I'm more than half-naked in front of other people. That just helps with the locker room feel of this entire experience. My high school was so big that our P.E. class had at least fifty girls in it. My palms start to sweat because of the long, flowing train of my dress, combined with the high heels that squeeze my feet too tightly.

_Please don't let me fall. Please._

Just as the woman who helped me into the blue glittery gown steps back from zipping me in, Frances appears in front of me seemingly out of nowhere, all ready to go.

"Holy shit! Chas, you look so beautiful."

"I'm going to fall! And I still have rollers in my hair!"

Frances reaches out for me. "C'mon, I'll help you take them out-"

" _WHERE IS CHASITY NOVELO?!"_

The booming voice coming from somewhere behind the rows of vanities makes Frances and I stop our bickering immediately.

Even though I haven't heard that voice all my life, I could still recognize it anywhere now.

"Paul!"

I'm moving within seconds, seemingly unfazed by the train and the shoes that are too small as I head in his direction. Frances is right on my heels, and neither of us slow down until we finally see him.

"There you two are!" He stands with his hands on his hips, a puzzled look over his beautiful features. "It's two minutes until showtime, and you still haven't taken your hair down?" He glances at his watch, and back up to us in less than a second. "Tsk, tsk."

Immediately, Frances starts pulling at the pins and rollers. Paul doesn't stop talking as she works, and I listen.

"After this show, you need to make sure you're down the street at the other venue. Your next show starts at three, and they called to make sure you two know rehearsal is at noon. I was hoping to squeeze in a break for you to eat lunch, but we have to go to the agency dinner tonight, so there won't be time this afternoon. I hope you two brought a change of clothes that are sensible. Not _jeans_ , Chasity. I know you grew up with a bunch of boys, but I cannot take you in front of my colleagues while you're wearing _Levi's_. Anyway, you both will do just fine! I've got to go. I just wanted to make sure Chasity hadn't fled the country overnight."

Frances is fluffing my hair as Paul pecks the air around both our faces before walking away, back the way he came in. I'm thankful for it, because I don't get the chance to confirm that I did, in fact, bring Levi's and nothing else. _A problem for future me_. . .

"Bye!" Fran and I both weakly call after him. I hear myself say it rather than feel it. I'm still trying to process that I have to do this _twice_ today.

Paul never told me that yesterday.

All he manages is a brief wave as he walks away, trying to move through the crowd of girls about to line up, and all the staff making sure they're in order.

Frances gets pulled away from me, as her spot is further up, and closer to the beginning of the show than I am. I end up between two girls speaking what sounds like German. Near the curtain to the runway, I watch one of the people in black starting a sound system just before a Madonna song begins to play. Seconds later, the line starts to move, and every step makes me closer to the curtain. Behind it, I hear the sounds of cheers and clapping over the music. I don't know how I can make out anything over the sound of my own heart hammering in my chest beneath the blue silk. I haven't seen myself in a mirror, but I'd be willing to bet that I'd think the dress is beautiful, despite the back on it that's likely to kill me in just a few moments when everyone's eyes are on me.

The girls in front of me and behind me must not be new, because they don't stop their casual conversation until it's nearly time. I look straight ahead, wondering if maybe I'll pass Frances out there. _Maybe she'll be able to catch me so I don't go overboard. . ._

Just as the floor beneath my feet transitions from concrete to slick, black catwalk, I take a deep breath, and my mind shuts off.

_I can do this. . ._


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2nd longest chapter ever! Thanks for 200+ reads here babes! Find me on my tumblr @axlnchas 💖💖

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of drugs and drug use.

It's my turn to console Frances now.

Every few seconds, our cab driver turns slightly to look back at her face. She's been dry heaving the entire ride. I'm convinced he's afraid she'll throw up all over his backseat.

"We're going to be in the same room as them," She moans. Her hands clutch at her head like it hurts. Like she's in agony over the entire situation.

Meanwhile, I can _hardly wait._

"Oh, c'mon! Don't say it like _that_! It's gonna be fun," I tell her. "I don't know why you're so worried."

I mean, I could probably throw up right now if I really tried. But the knots in my stomach are _good._ All week, they've been bad, each runway show bringing a new wave of anxiety. But today? It's just pure excitement.

 _Axl. Duff. All the guys, really._ Home. _Finally, home._

"Chasity," Frances starts, peering up at me through her fingers. "I don't know them like you do."

"Yeah," I agree. "But they're not these scary rockstars you think they are. They're dorks! You've met Duff. He's totally cool. I don't think we're going to get to see them before the show. We're already so late," I lean forward to see the tiny clock on the dashboard. According to what it reads, the show started thirty minutes ago.

_How sad. . . Axl's probably shirtless by now. Hot stage lights, the crowd. . . Definitely all sweaty. Goregous. Godly. Hopefully we make it just in time to see one song. Please, God. It's So Easy would be good. . . He always gets so into that one. . ._

I almost want to tell the driver to speed up. But I pull the reigns in on my self control as I listen to Frances' concerns.

"God, I can't do this!" Her voice raises as she pulls her hair at the root. "I can't! I'm too nervous. He is totally _hot,_ Chas."

I nearly _gag._ Oh. My. God. "Frances Hall! He's _in love_ with Mandy! They're going to get _married_. Fran, you _can't_ like him!" The driver stares at me now. I pretend to ignore him as my eyes feel like they're going to pop out of their sockets. I stare at Fran, wide-eyed. So that's what this is about. _A crush_.

 _Usually_ I'm _the one losing their mind over a boy. . ._

"Well sorry about it! I can't just _not_ like him, Mandy or no Mandy! He's too attractive! I've listened to his music for too long to just _not_ feel feelings about him, Chas! Meeting him just made it worse! You're right, he was really cool. So _nice_. And _cute_!" A red blush takes over her whole face as she looks at her heels.

She's dressed for a party. Like the ones we've been dragged to all week. _Fashion parties_. Backstage, at clubs all over the city. People stand around listening to instrumentals, eating tiny sandwiches, drinking tiny drinks, and talk about whatever it is they do. We mostly kept to Paul's side and didn't speak unless spoken to. I think we were just too exhausted by that point every night to make any effort at putting ourselves out there. We blended in there alongside other models, looked the part in casual dresses and pretty makeup. But tonight? Fran will look out of place. She'll stand out. _I bet it was her plan all along. . . Trying to get Duff's attention! Ha!_

I shake my head as I squeeze the leather jacket slung across my lap tighter. I'm wearing what I always do (much to Paul's dismay,), my jeans and a Guns N' Roses t-shirt and high tops, the same dirty ones. My makeup is still done from this morning's Perry Ellis show, and my hair, which nobody knows about. _That's bound to get their attention. Well, maybe. If they're sober enough to notice._

Instead of Paul carting me out of the taxi, I have to practically carry Frances out of it. The New York City streets are still flooded with people as we hurry to the club door. There's no line waiting outside by the bouncer, as I'm sure there was before the show started. All it takes is a flash of my laminated _Appetite for Destruction_ All-Access Pass for the man to let us inside. Frances has trouble with the long, sprawling flight of steps up to the actual concert hall, but I refuse to slow down for her. The wooden steps shake with every note the band plays and the rumble of crowd's footsteps above us. We're too close to slow down now, over a month in the making. I can hardly breathe, let alone listen to Frances telling me to wait for her.

Daydreaming about this moment didn't compare to what it's actually like. The bar is packed, and the crowd that leads up to the stage is wild, one huge sea of chaos. I consider trying to cross it, to wedge myself in between all the bodies and the metal barricade. To get front and center, where Axl will see me. But when I do a double take back at Fran and her strappy heels, I know it's a lost cause.

And I was right. Axl _is_ shirtless. Even from all the way over here, at the very back of the crowd, I can tell that he hasn't changed one bit from the image of him in my head that I summon into focus often. Every bit of him is just as goregous under the stage lights as he sings. He moves so quickly, but so gracefully, too. He never collides with Izzy, or Duff, or Slash. They all coexist perfectly, and so does their music. They're _tight,_ and the crowd knows it. The current song they play, _Paradise City,_ ends and I worry that all the cheering and stomping and screams will damage my hearing. But it's a _relief_. They survived, and so did I. A month out at tour, and a week of modeling. And even if they don't know I'm here, they're expecting me, and it's just a matter of time before we're all laughing again. Even if Frances will be trying to make a move on Duff all night long, I don't care.

_Axl, Axl, Axl. I've missed him so much._

He's so charismatic, and everyone knows it. I don't feel jealous as I watch girls near the front row reach up and try to touch him when he gets close. I see and feel their longing for him all the way over here. It's obvious, their desire for him. For Axl Rose, the rockstar, the enigma, the lead singer of Guns N' Roses. I get it, wholeheartedly, I understand. But they don't know him like I do. _I'm_ the one who's going to be stealing glances from him the rest of the night, until we're alone. _If,_ we get to be alone.

_I hope so, Axl. Please, please, please._

I don't realize the show has ended until Frances is yelling over the crowd at me. "Where do we go now?!"

" _Backstage_!" I holler with a grin.

It's not hard to find the stage door, and it doesn't take much convincing to the roadies to let Frances through with me. The grimy hall is narrow as we walk down it, past the band's gear. Frances whines as she has to press the back of her pink dress against the dirty walls to let some crew members pass by us. I laugh, but it's cut short once I just _know_ that the door a few yards away is the one we're looking for. It's propped open slightly, and I can hear their voices.

When I hesitate, so does Frances.

"Oh my _God_ ," She pants. "I hate you for bringing me here."

"You'll get over it," I mumble. My hand gets closer and closer to the doorhandle every second, but for some reason, I feel like I'm moving through sand. Slow, sluggish. My brain can't keep up, can't comprehend all the joy I'm about to experience. I crave it now more than anything, to see the boys. To be _home._

Then, it happens all at once.

I pull the door back, and walk through it. This dressing room is built like all the others, a leather sofa and mirrors and alcohol everywhere. Plus, five long, lanky men take up nearly all available space. Their voices come out all in the same roar.

" _CHASITY!"_

It takes everything in me to not charge at Axl first. To slam his sweaty body to the floor, and give him the biggest kiss. But really, I don't have to do a lot to hold myself back. Duff's arms do the work for me.

"Hi, honey! Oh, Chasity," Duff's voice is ecstatic in my ears. I blame it on the vodka that he smells of. He squeezes my ribs so tight that the tips of my converse drag on the ground as he lifts me up. "I missed you. I missed you so much!"

"I missed you too, Michael," I beam. I really did. I missed him with every ounce in me. I hug him twice as tight as he hugs me, for Michelle. I know she's upset that I'm here without her. " _I_ missed _you_ so much!"

Duff spins me around, laughing. It makes me shriek.

"God, I didn't know what I was gonna do if I didn't see _my_ _Chasity Grace_ soon!" He finally puts me down, grinning.

"You've survived just fine without me. You're still standing. No broken bones. No black eyes. You're not in jail," I shrug.

That makes everyone laugh, until Steve gasps.

"Kid, what'd you do to your hair?! I swear, it's different-"

Duff pulls me into his side, arm around my shoulder. He presses his cheek to mine as he crouches down, like he's making us pose for an imaginary photo. "We look even more alike now! Call her Michelle and I's twin! We're triplets!"

I roll my eyes. My hair is still very much dark, and the lightest parts don't even come close to his and Michelle's platinum, almost white blonde.

"Yeah, yeah," Slash shakes his head, curls bouncing. "Quit hogging her-lemme give the girl a hug."

With a sigh, Duff fully releases me. I'm pretty much passed person to person, from Duff, to Slash, to Steve (who pets my hair), to Izzy. To Axl.

Pain bubbles up in my chest as I hug him, but not for long enough. It's hard to hide the tears as they well in my eyes. My throat physically itches with all the things I wish I could say to him. My skin burns where he touches it lightly-he doesn't hug me tight-how I want him to. _How I need him to_. Our embrace lasts for less than five seconds, and his smile is tight. It doesn't stretch wide, his eyes don't crinkle how they always do.

"Hi, Chas."

"Hi, Axl."

We act practically like strangers. This is the part I must've neglected to include in my fantasies of our reunion. I should've known it wouldn't be so sweet. Of course it has to be like this in front of everyone; cordial, cold. Not genuine. A show, an act. Like we're both onstage, giving the performance of our lives right now. And we're good at it, too. No one bats an eye as I quickly throw myself into introducing now neglected Frances. The guilt of just abandoning her by the doorway as I got swept up in hugs fills my chest, and sucks up any tears that threatened to fall. It's the perfect distraction, and I let myself get caught up in introducing Fran.

Of course, the guys welcome Frances as if they've known her as long as they've known me. Duff hugs her too long for my liking (and Mandy's, I'm sure.) Axl is kind and funny, mentioning that he's heard a lot about her (from me.) I watch Frances grow more comfortable as I lead her towards the cooler, where there's beer and _Coke-A-Cola_. Sodas in hand, we sit next to each other on one of the cool leather sofas.

Then the interrogation starts. It's totally one sided. It feels like an interview, all the guys asking questions about what we've seen and done all week while here in New York. How long our days are, if we've been eating, what it's like to wear the clothes, be backstage. How you can't see anything but camera flashes and shadows of the crowd from the tall runways and bright lights. They tell us that that's what it's like to be onstage, which I find interesting.

_Axl has his stage, and now I have mine. We've found some common ground that_ _never in a million years did I ever think we would. Crazy. . ._

When Izzy asks if there's a lot of naked girls, Duff slaps him upside the head. "That's my _sister_ , you fucker."

I pull my lips together to keep from laughing at Izzy's face as he rubs the spot where Duff slapped him. Frances laughs into her Coke can.

"Are you still single?"

That question comes from Steven. He peers at me through his bangs with curious, wide eyes. There's no joke behind his words, like Izzy. He really wants to know.

_Oh, God._

As I look to Duff, he speaks the second we lock eyes. "Jesus, you guys!" His gaze leaves me as he moves to Izzy, then Steve. "Did you suddenly forget who you're talking to?! Chasity is just a _kid_ -"

"She's _eighteen_!" Steve defends himself, and also me, I guess. He raises his hands up, voice on-edge.

Izzy snorts, and I watch Axl jab him with an elbow as Duff goes on.

"So?!" Duff wrinkles up his nose. "Chasity does _not_ have a boyfriend. She _never_ has, and it's going to stay that way for a long time if I can help it."

I struggle with what approach to take with that last part. It's a relief to know that this tour hasn't led to Axl and I's downfall (at least not yet.) I feel proud of him. He's kept it under wraps, which I know can't be easy. I try not to smile as I think about it, how happy I am with Axl right now. I slip him a glance, a small smirk as Duff continues to bicker with Steve.

But Axl isn't paying any mind to me. His forehead is creased as he watches Duff and Steven. Izzy continues to laugh beside Axl, which makes me wonder just what it is that he finds so hilarious. _Weird. . ._

But on the other hand, I feel annoyed with Duff. Hurt. He thinks I'm _that_ immature? So childish, that no one can, or should take me out on a date. He thinks he has _that_ much say over my life? That just because he thinks I shouldn't date, that I won't?

_Oh, Michael. If only you knew. . ._

"You failed to mention that he's so overprotective," Frances whispers into my ear.

"I did tell you, you just forgot because of your ridiculous crush on him," I murmur back.

Duff and Steve are still going at it, and I finally decide what stance to take in order to keep the peace.

"I don't even have time for a boyfriend," I shrug, mostly looking at Duff. "I'm so busy, all the time." _Hanging out with Axl. . . Thinking about Axl. . ._ "I don't know how I would make time for-for _that,"_ I gesture aimlessly, unsure about what I'm searching for next. "It sounds tiring-"

"Good answer, kid." Duff looks pleased with me just before he throws back the rest of his drink, and glares at everyone but Fran and I. "Next subject."

The night continues on like this, questions and answers and bickering. We learn that the guys don't have much to comment on when Frances and I ask the questions. They keep it vague. Crowds are huge, their merch is selling well, and they've been _trying_ to make it onstage on time. Record sales are still lower than what they'd like, but they're keeping the faith, as am I.

Nobody mentions the fact that there's an entire trash can full of what appears to be condoms, a sad attempt at trying to shield me. They also don't mention all the empty alcohol bottles everywhere, or their appearances. The longer I look at them, the more I see the effects of touring. Tired eyes and blue circles. Greasy hair. Bitten fingernails. The lazy energy circling in the air above their heads, the general feeling of being _too_ relaxed. Numbness.

Out of all of them, Duff looks the worst. The more time I spend with him, the more apparent it becomes.

I know that seeing him like this will make it hard for me to sleep tonight. It'll make it hard for me to tell Michelle when I get back to Los Angeles. I debate on whether or not I even will tell her everything I'm seeing, and not seeing.

But Axl. . . _Oh, Axl._

His spirit calls out to me, bright and focused. There are no clouds in his orbit, no storms raging. Those green eyes aren't hazy when they steal mine for the quickest seconds. There are no dark shadows, nothing more than what's to be expected while on a sixteen-month bus tour. Him, I can speak confidently about.

The others? Not so much.

I'm the one who calls for an end to the night. And not for my sake, but for theirs. If I could personally see them all to a meal (a real one, not _McDonald's_ ), and then to their beds, I would. But they're grown men, and although I wish I could intervene, ask just what it is they're getting into, I don't. I simply ask to go to the hotel. I say it's late. They listen.

It's a hassle to try and gather them all up. Alcohol isn't allowed outside the dressing room or the designated bar area. Steven and Izzy have a stand-off with the venue's security about the beer they're trying to take out with them, and eventually, Duff and Slash come to their defense as well. Doug manages to talk down the bouncers, to just let us leave through the back door, and we'll be no more trouble. Finally, they agree, and the dark alley we walk down would terrify me if I wasn't with the guys. Frances doesn't seem too convinced, though.

"It's fine," I murmur to her. The night is hot, and the city is still loud with traffic. At the end of the alley, the street is still packed with cars.

"Is it, though? They're so drunk," Frances laughs as she points at Steve and Slash, who lean on each other as they stumble ahead of us.

"They'll sleep it off," I say. I can't tell if I'm trying to console her, or me anymore.

When we come up to three taxis, the hugs ensue.

Duff squeezes me tight. Even with Lord knows what coursing through his system, his grip is still as tight as it was earlier. Like he's afraid to let me go. "Bye, Chassy. You know where you're going, right?"

"Of course," I reassure him. I wrote the hotel address on a piece of paper, which I stuck in my purse. "I'll see you tomorrow, Michael. I love you."

"I love you, too."

I peck his cheek lightly, my hand still firm on his arm. "Get some sleep, please. For me, and Michelle."

I leave him with that, and one last meaningful look that I hope conveys what I know.

"Bye, Chassy!" Steven whisks me up in his strong drummer arms, laughing. "You'll be at the show tomorrow, right?"

"Of course!" I don't have any shows of my own tomorrow, except for one in the morning. I'm sure none of them will even be awake until after that, though.

Frances is busy chatting Duff up, and Slash is unavailable for a hug as he dry heaves over the curb. Izzy holds him up, and above them, Doug loudly threatens to take alcohol out of their rider completely

Wide-eyed, I turn away from that scene, only for my gaze to land right on Axl.

Just looking at him soothes my soul. He's like a shining beacon against the rest of the guy's mayhem. He's safe and beautiful, just as he would be on any other day. He stands with his thumbs hooked through his belt loops, like he's just been waiting for his chance to have my attention.

I give him all of it. I practically forget where we are as I move in to hug him so fast that I get my arms around his waist first. I let everything melt away, and my head empties as I listen to his heart. Strong, steady. When I sigh, so does he.

The seconds pass, and I know that he's going to say something. Put an end to it, the sweet relief of being in his arms again. I wait for it, bracing myself for how much it'll hurt when he pulls away. Except he doesn't.

His chin comes to rest on my crown, and I hug him tighter.

"What room are you in?"

"What?"

" _What room are you in,_ " Axl repeats lowly.

I already forgot that we're staying in the same hotel. When Doug revealed that we're all at the same downtown address, I almost couldn't believe it. Axl had looked at me when he said it, but I didn't think that anything would come from it. Nothing but a heightened sense of anxiety that would keep Axl far, far away from my room. But now, he's asking for it.

I don't deny him. _"1307."_

Behind us, I hear Doug's loud "You're okay, Slash! Let's go," and France's promises of trying to make it to the show tomorrow to Duff.

It's time to go.

Axl releases me, and his voice becomes casual again, upbeat. Any traces of the intimacy in his words, or our hug are long gone.

"Bye, Chas. See you tomorrow!"

"Bye, Axl!"

He takes the liberty of opening the cab door for Frances and I. We slide in, and all we can manage are final waves before the cab pulls out of the parking spot, and I have to rummage through my purse for that piece of paper with the address.

After reading it off to the driver, Frances and I don't speak much. She's like me in the sense that she has a lot going on all the time. So, we just hold space for each other to retreat into our heads. And I do. I fully dive in, unpacking the night.

 _They're doing drugs. I know they are. They didn't look_ god-awful _, but they looked like they've seen better days. Better days in California. Where they somewhat have schedules, and laws apply to them. Where Michelle and I are in their lives, and we keep them grounded to Earth._

I'm not completely clueless. I took health class. I've seen the pictures of meth-mouth and heard all about what drugs do to your brain. Back when Duff came home from his _extended trip_ to Seattle, Alice had cried and screamed. She found weed in his backpack, and something else. He was around my age at that time. Michelle and I were too young to really process it, but it made everyone concerned. Since that incident, nothing else happened ever again.

To this day, I still have never seen any drugs other than that small bag of weed on the McKagan's kitchen table. I can still hear Alice's yelling, and Duff's retorts back at her. That was the first day I really heard him yell with his deeper, adult voice. He didn't have it before he left for Seattle. It was new, hell, _he_ was practically new. A different version of my brother. One I had never seen before. And it scared me, even as a kid.

It would be naive of me to assume that Duff has stayed away from things ever since then. I know what their songs are about. Tonight is something that cannot be denied, and he definitely seemed to be doing the worst out of them all.

Maybe it's other bands. I've heard things about The Cult. Alice Cooper. It makes me angry at people I don't even know. It makes me want to hop on the tour with them, just to make sure they're not slowly killing themselves.

_Slowly killing themselves. . ._

Fear makes my hands shake as I hold my leather jacket to my lap. I suck in a deep breath. It hurts, adds fuel to the pain in my chest. Those same feelings from when Duff fled to Seattle and nobody knew if he was even alive pool up inside me. After tomorrow, they're going back out on their own. I fly home the following day. I won't see them for a while. And now, the entire time, I'm going to _truly_ worry. This last month was just a small preview for how I'm going to be now on.

My hands continue to shake as I pay the driver, taking singles out of France's hand for his tip. The cab drives off after dropping us at the front of the hotel. It's late, so there's not much people out, even though there is still traffic. The band hasn't made it here yet, but I'm sure they're only a few minutes behind us.

I decide that I cannot stomach seeing them again tonight. I need to regain my bearings. I could break down. Lose it, when I'm not even fully sure just what it is they're up to. And that's something I definitely want to avoid. Frances looks beat, her yawns coming in every minute or so.

Once we're in the elevator, she looks at me, smiling.

"You're so lucky you got to grow up with them. They're so much fun, so cool," She yawns wide, eyes shutting. "Ugh. So tired. They're truly something, though."

"I am really lucky," I agree. "I feel like I don't deserve them sometimes."

Frances meets my eyes just as the elevator goes _ding!_ and the doors slide open to our floor.

"Chas, you _do_ deserve them. They need you, you know? You're all so perfect together. It's such a treat to see, really."

I can't help it as my eyes water. "Thank you, Fran. I had a lot of fun with you today."

We stop in front of her door now, at the opposite end of the hall from mine. The entire floor is quiet, except for us.

After we say goodnight, she heads inside, and I go off to my room.

Finally being alone makes my thoughts worse. At first, I just lay back on the huge white bed, and stare up at the tall white ceiling. I don't turn any lights on. I nearly trip over last night's pajamas on the floor on my way to the bed. The heavy curtains over the big window drown out any noises of the city below, which makes my head loud and clear.

It's like swimming through crowded waters. The wave pool in the heart of summer. I want to help, but I can hardly stay above the huge motions myself.

This week has been hard. For the first time, I'm on my own. My parents haven't been here. I've called every day to check in, but it's not the same. It's hard to sleep in an empty hotel room, even if it is beautiful. I haven't fallen on my face on any runways yet. I've tripped a couple times backstage, but I've caught myself every time. The days are just so long, riddled with anxiety about what will happen next. I'm constantly meeting new people, introducing myself. It's weird, because for my entire life, I knew everyone I was around for years. But here, I don't know a single soul. I'm alone.

Now Axl is here, I'm not alone, and I've already been in my room for an hour now. The red numbers read that it's after midnight.

I sigh loudly, making a show of it, even though I have no audience. "He's not coming. I'm not going to see him."

The room stays still and quiet.

"I'm sure he's exhausted. He did look very goregous up there tonight as he worked. That is his job, after all. Looking like a rock n' roll god," I laugh to myself, cracking a smile. "But he's not coming. It's late. . ."

It takes a lot of effort to make myself stand up and walk into the bathroom. On the way, I ditch my tight jeans next to yesterday's pajamas. One nice thing about being alone is that my mom can't yell at me for having a messy room.

I go through all the motions. Brushing my teeth, washing my face. Paul gave me all these creams for my skin, and made me swear to use them religiously. I have been, but I can't tell the difference. Frances still has to cover up my red spots every day with foundation.

I leave the bathroom light on as I walk back out to the bedroom. I have to squint through the darkness to find the navy colored t-shirt I'm looking for, but it doesn't take any more than a few seconds. Axl's scent is long gone from the oversized thing, but I put it on anyway.

The sheets are cool against my bare legs, making me shiver after I climb into bed. Paul has been pounding on my door every single morning at seven on the dot, and I'm sure tomorrow will be no exception.

It takes a few minutes to get comfortable, but eventually, I feel lighter and lighter, closer to sleep.

●●●

_The grass I lay on itches, but in the best way possible. Blue skies stretch above, interrupted by ancient oak trees. They sway with the wind, but don't provide relief from the hot sun._

_The_ California _sun. I'd recognize it's humid heat anywhere._

_"What's wrong, Chas?"_

_It feels like it takes minutes for me to sit up. My limbs feel heavy, like stone._

_Axl stands above me, and I have to squint to make out his figure against the sky. At the same instant, I get confirmation that we are in California. We're at the park just a few blocks from my house._

_Just as slowly as I sat up, I turn to look behind me. The big primary-color playground is the same as it has always been. Michelle and I used to climb the monkey bars. She sprained her arm once on them. Duff wasn't watching us closely, and she just fell, her grip giving out. Of course, she cried. So did I, because at that age, anything she did, I did. I almost fell on purpose a few days later, just so that we could've had matching arm slings. But Duff caught me in the act. He carried me all the way home over his shoulder that day. . ._

_"Chas."_

_My head turns_ too _fast now. Axl still stands in the way of the sun. I feel my face pull into a frown as I look at him. He's dressed for a concert. Snakeskin jacket, leather pants. He wears a bandana around his head, all his jewelry. All he's missing is his shades. I certainly wish I could wear them. The sun is so bright._

_"Something is wrong, what is it?"_

_I continue to frown now. "Nothing is ever wrong when I'm with you," I counter._

_Axl points behind me, without a word. My head turns again._

_The playground has changed. Well, something's been added to it. Near it, really. Duff sits on one of the wooden benches. His hair is short, a golden blonde with hints of red and blue fading from the tips. He sits, legs spread, but they're not quite as long as they are now. Not to mention, I haven't seen him wear the Converse on his feet in years._ _His face is more round than I can recall, like baby weight from childhood._

_It's Duff, a couple months after coming home from Seattle._

_I look to Axl again. "Why is he here?"_

_Axl shrugs. "Ask him."_

_It's a struggle to raise my voice. I feel as though I just can't seem to yell loud enough. "Duff! Duff!"_

_He just continues to sit, his gaze everywhere but in our direction. He even begins to tap his foot, almost impatiently._

_"Why does he look so young?" I say to Axl. I don't wait for an answer. "Hey, Michael!"_

_I even wave my arms, until it becomes too tiring. They too, feel so, so heavy. Like I'm treading through currents. The sun is still so hot on my face, my legs. I'm wearing shorts._

_"I don't know why he can't hear me. I don't understand."_

_I stare at this younger Duff, helpless. Axl does nothing. He eventually comes to sit next to me in the grass, criss-cross._

_"I'm worried about him, Axl. I don't know why he can't hear me."_

_Axl doesn't say anything. His ringed fingers pick at the grass, strawberry-blonde hair blowing in the wind._

_"I don't think he's okay, and I don't know why he won't listen," I say._

_I grow more and more restless as my eyes flicker from Duff's motionless figure, to Axl, who still plays with the grass._

_Finally, Axl looks up at me, calmly._

_"Wait for-"_

●●●

The ringing of the phone on the nightstand is loud. So loud, it makes me jump awake. 

My hand shoots out towards the reciever, grabbing the phone. " _Hello_?"

"I _knew_ you were asleep. I knew it. . ." 

His voice makes me sit up immediately.

"Axl!"

"I'm sorry I woke you up, baby." He sighs deeply, his voice sounding crystal clear on his end of the line. It's quiet. Like he's alone. "God, what was I thinking?"

Getting cold, I set the phone down for a second to slide back under the thick comforter. My head hits the pillow softly, and I hurry to bring the phone back to my ear. "Don't be sorry, Ax." I shut my eyes as I speak quietly. They're so heavy with sleep they hurt. "It's okay."

"You have to be up early, don't you? Chas, I should just hang up. It doesn't matter, anyway-"

"Wh- _at_ doesn't _m_ -matter?" My voice cracks in ugly places, but I don't care.

"You should sleep, babe. I can hear how tired you are-"

"Coffee exists."

That makes Axl laugh. It sounds beautiful, even more so with my eyes still closed. All my focus is on his voice.

"Since when do _you_ drink _coffee_? I've never seen you drink coffee in your _entire life_ , honey."

"Since my boyfriend calls my hotel room from his hotel room at," I crack one eye open just enough to see the clock. I was only asleep for half an hour, maybe a little longer. "Two A.M."

He laughs again, but this time, it ends quicker. Silence settles for a moment, and I don't mind it.

"Why aren't you asleep."

Axl doesn't say anything at first. He just sighs again, long and heavy.

"I miss you too much, Chas."

I knit my brows together and frown, squeezing my eyes shut even tighter. "So come here, then."

He chuckles softly. "Really?"

" _Yes_ ," I hiss. " _Now_. It's hard to hold a phone as you're laying down, you know. I'd rather you be here. . . _With me,_ " I add.

He sounds as if he's contemplating it for a second.

I whine. " _Please, Axl._ "

I hear him groan. "But, Chassy-"

"Come to my room. _Please_."

I don't budge.

Finally, he does.

"Oh, okay," He says, almost like he's attempting to sound annoyed. I hear right through it, though.

"I'll be there as quick as I can."

"Bye Axl!" I perk up enough to form my words in sing-song, happiness shining in them.

"Bye, baby!"

I put the phone back on the hook before reaching further, and turning on the lamp on the nightstand. Even that little bit of light makes me immediately cringe, my eyelids crushing together. I rub at them as I groan, wondering if I made the wrong decision.

_I'm exhausted. So tired. Today was so long. . ._

Then I remember why it's worth it.

 _This is_ Axl _we're talking about. Axl. Axl, Axl, Axl. My Axl. I haven't seen him in a whole month. Thirty-three nights. Maybe more. So long, that I can't even recall when._

His knock sounds on the door softly, as if not to wake me if I had somehow managed to fall back asleep in just a few minutes. I almost miss it, because my heart is threatening to bust out of my chest from how hard it works. My legs shake as I throw back the covers, attempting to sit up to go open the door. _Nerves_.

_It's just Axl._

_Axl, Axl, Axl. My Axl. The God. So beautiful. Everyone loves him, including me. And I haven't been alone with him in so long. I've only seen him in my thoughts, my dreams. Earlier was practically a tease. Not even close to what it's about to be like. Alone, with Axl. For the first time in what feels like forever. Oh my God. . ._

Then I remember I better hurry, before he really does think I fell back asleep, and leaves.

I nearly trip over that same heap of clothes I did earlier as I sprint to the door. I let out a yelp on the way, trying to get them into a distant corner, out of the way. _Maybe I should've cleaned._

The hotel room door is heavy as I open it with my shaking hands, my legs like the rainbow Jell-O my aunt makes at Christmas.

Somehow, Axl manages to startle me, even though I'm expecting him to be on the opposite side of the door.

I stand stiff, wide-eyed as I take him in. I think my jaw drops a little.

"Hi, baby."

He smiles his dazzling one, and I forget how to speak.

Soundless, I awkwardly shuffle out of the way, so he can come in.

He does, and the door swings shut behind him, locking.

I feel the red seep into my cheeks slow and steady. My ears, too. It burns in the most wonderful way.

"Well, somebody's really happy to finally see me for real." Axl's face starts to go red as he looks at me, and I look at him.

"I-"

Axl laughs, shaking his head. "You make me laugh, Chas. C'mere," He holds open his arms.

That's when I lose it. _Everything._

I cry hard. My shoulders shudder against Axl's firm chest, taking each rack of my release with ease as he cradles me to him. Finally, I use my voice. It's incoherent, though. Sobs leave my body, loud and high-pitched. Ugly noises, sounds of pain. Knowing that he can hear me and see me and feel me makes them worse.

"Oh, Chas." Axl's voice is like honey, and hearing it for real, in person, makes me worse.

 _"I m-missed y-y-you s-so much."_ My hands hurt as I clench at the t-shirt that covers his back.

" _I know, baby_. I know, honey. Here, put your legs up. Let me hold you-There you go. . ."

Axl's arms don't falter as he carries me like a little kid, my legs wrapped iron-tight around his waist. The wails don't stop coming, even though my throat and jaw both ache with pain.

"And I know you were _b-busy_ and you _w-were w-w-working,_ but I felt _so-so_ _sad_ when you didn't call, _A-Axl._ And I'm not _mad_ at you, I just _missed you_ _so much_. And I didn't know if _y-you_ were okay, or if _Duff_ was okay, or if _Steve_ was okay, or _S-Slash_ , or _Izzy_ -"

Axl's footsteps are noticeable as he talks. "I'm so sorry, baby. I'm an asshole-"

"N-No, you're not!" I cry harder.

I feel him sit down on the bed, and my legs relax their grip on him as I sit back onto his lap. Still attached to his shirt, my fists throb. Through my tears, I look at Axl's face. His beautiful, magnificent eyes. They're pulled into a gut-wrenching expression. It makes me worse. I can hardly choke out my words. "You're the best man I've ever met. _I-I l-love you so much!_ I love you so much, Axl. You're not an asshole. You're so perfect, and I can't believe you even put up with me-"

Axl silences me in the best way possible. He presses his lips to my tear-soaked cheeks with a certain tenderness. "C'mere, come closer. Put your arms around me. _Just let me hold you, Chasity._ "

So I do. I rest my head on his shoulder, my face pressed into his neck that now has light stubble coming in. He smells how he always has, and it makes the tears flow steady. We say nothing as I cry. Axl lays a large hand flat on my back, warm and secure. He rubs slowly as he rocks us in an invisible wind, to the time of a song in his head, which he hums.

When he realizes that my fists are still balled up so tight that I can't feel my fingers, he speaks.

"Let go, Chas. It's okay, baby. I'm not going anywhere." The way he speaks is so gentle, so soft. The way he speaks when it's just us, alone.

I relax my hands without a fight.

_I missed him. I missed him so much._

It's so different from how everyone else has been, for so long. My parents, my silbings who fight all day. Not Michelle, though. She's so busy I've hardly seen her. Paul, yes. He's hard on me. Firm, even though I know he has to be. The staff at shows, complete strangers. Screaming my name, hastily zipping me into clothes, poking and prodding at my body.

Nobody has held me like this since I was a child, I think. Nobody has _really_ listened to me since I was last with Axl.

It makes me cry, harder.

Eventually, Axl has to pull me off him so he can take his shirt off. His entire right shoulder is soaked with tears.

" _I-I'm s-s-sorry._ "

He frowns lightly at me. "Don't be sorry, baby." Then his face turns up, into a smile. "You'll be closer to me now."

I don't even realize that I've laughed until I'm back compact against him, his bare chest and tattoed arms now. He continues to rub my back, swaying.

"Whenever you want to talk about this, you let me know, baby. I'll hold you all night."

I didn't think it was possible, but the tears stop eventually. My face is able to relax from it's ugly-sobbing expression. I manage to take in some deep breaths of Axl's cologne, and the conditioner he used in the shower. 

"It was hard to be away from you. I felt alone. All I had was your car," I muse, thinking about the Camaro. I miss it. The car.

Without thinking, I speak again.

"Nobody loves me the way you do, Axl. You take such good care of me. I love you so much. And I _need_ your love. I need it so much. I finally realized how cold the world is. How _lonely_ it can be-" My voice cracks. Axl kisses my head, and I find my way again. "This week was so hard. I've felt like I'm going to throw up every single day. People aren't nice here like California. The people who run the shows treat me like I'm just a body, a mannequin. And I can't tell if Paul really thinks I can do this or not. I can't tell if he still believes in me. I hope so. Otherwise, I don't know what I'll do. This was my shot, and the entire time, I was barely keeping it together."

Axl looks down at me, locking his eyes with mine as he pulls one of my hands around his back. He presses kisses my knuckles. "I love you, sweetheart. You're so strong. You have everything you need already, honey. It's in here," He uses his hand to take mine, and lays both of ours over my heart. "You carry enough in here to get through anything, all on your own. I already know you did amazing, Chasity. Don't doubt yourself. Don't be hard on yourself, babe. You're so young that it seems like any mistake you make is the worst thing, but really, it's not. You're still learning. It was just the first week, the first month. You treat yourself how I treat you, okay ? You love yourself how I love you."

He presses his hand into my heart more. "You carry enough of me in here for you, okay?"

Our kiss remains deep as Axl holds my hand over my chest. He feels how fast my heart beats, and it makes me feel even more honest with him.

We both breathe when we pull apart, and I remember what happened before he called.

"I had a dream about you."

"You did?" Axl's tone is like sugar.

"Duff was in it, too. I was worried about him. We were at that park near my house. I used to play there when I was little, with Duff. But he couldn't hear me. He didn't look too good. He looked how he did tonight, but younger. It scared me. It was like a nightmare. Like how tonight was.

"And in my dream, he seemed like he was doing drugs. Like how he seemed tonight. He was too pale and his eyes were too hollow and he just seemed _off_. Steven was jumpy. Slash was too worn out. Please tell me they aren't doing drugs. Please tell me it isn't bad. Please. I can't tell Michelle that our brother is hurting himself. We've been through so much with him. I already worried so much while you've been gone. It tore me apart every day, and no one even knew. Only you looked sober, Axl. _Please_ stay that way. _Please, stay this way-_ "

I cut myself off as my tears start again. I'm almost annoyed, but the distress is too consuming.

Axl's breath catches in his throat. I hear it, the lump that must be forming there. I've never seen him cry before. The thought of it seems like the Heavens would come crashing down. A God, crying? _Weeping_? Impossible.

"Oh, Chas. I wish I had the strength to lie to you. I wish I could tell you it's not every day. . . It started a couple weeks ago. There's a lot of stuff backstage, with these older bands, more famous than us. More money, more connections. And they-the guys-they can't stay away. And I can't stop them. I can't stop Duff. He knows I don't like it. I don't like how it makes me-"

My breath catches now, my eyes welling with more tears as Axl admits he's done drugs to me for the first time explicitly. I knew it already. But it still hurts.

"-And I don't do it. I haven't. I like my _Jack_ and _Coca-A-Cola_ and _Marlboro Reds_. And _you_. You're all I need, baby. I stay far away from it. And it makes them mad. Duff gets pissy with me. He's so close to catching on to us, Chas. He's convinced I'm with someone. He knows me too well. That love, loving you, has changed me, my entire life. You make me want to be in the moment, always. I don't need that shit. And I don't know how to make them feel the same way. But they know I don't like it. They know you wouldn't, too. I've tried to bring you up to Duff. How it would make you feel if you knew. . .

"And here you are. You know, and you've been crying in my arms, in so much pain. I know about Seattle. And I'm sorry, on his behalf. You shouldn't know. He should've gotten his damn act together, at least to see you today," Axl's voice hardens with fury. "I'm so sorry, baby."

"Please just promise me that you'll try to keep an eye on him. On all of them," I plead. "Or else I don't know what I'll do, Axl. I wish I could be there to stop them-"

"That's not your job, Chas." Axl shakes his head. "You just leave it to me, okay? I've got it. I'll watch out for them. You just focus on you while we're away, okay? Even though it's hard for you. Don't worry about them, I've got it."

His words put me at ease. I know I'll still wander, still picture Duff on that playground bench, empty. But hopefully, not as much. Not as severe.

Axl and I don't speak any more. We kiss, all of them gentle and full of love. They serve as reassurance, connection. Something we lost that we have tonight, and tomorrow only. Then, it'll be gone again. So we kiss like we did that very first afternoon in his car. Butterflies soar in my stomach and the force behind them is slightly hesitant. Innocent. When we pull away, I'm still out of breath, taken away by how Axl makes me feel.

_Axl, Axl, Axl._

The last thing I remember before falling asleep is his body against mine, and the nightstand lamp clicking off.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content for Chas's dreams about Axl. 
> 
> Smut warning.

It's like I've woken up in some alternate universe.

Everything is so right, that it's _wrong_.

I woke up on time today, and even after crying all night, my head didn't hurt. My skin was glowing from Paul's skincare. Axl managed to slip out of bed and into the closet just in time for me to answer my wakeup call outside the hotel room door (also courtesy of Paul.) I made it to the show on time, still in my pajamas. My skin had no red marks when I got into my first outfit. For the first time all week, I walked out onto the runway and didn't feel like I was going to dry heave. The entire show went right to plan. We even finished _early._ I made it back to the hotel just as the boys woke up. We went to the venue, and they played the show. They made it onstage _on time._ There were no technical difficulties, no broken guitar strings, no hecklers ready to piss Axl off.

Duff has been _sober._ As sober as he can be. He _slept._ He's _eaten._ He's _showered._ Those shadows under his eyes have lessened. His brows sit higher, his laughter is upbeat. All night, he's been telling stupid jokes and recalling old embarassing stories that even I have trouble remembering. The show doesn't even seem to have worn him out. He looks _good._ Like Michael. Michael who taught me to play the drums, Michael who makes me pancakes every Saturday morning the way he learned at the restaurant. Michelle's Michael. My Michael.

"Chas, you good?"

When I look up at him, it's like a miracle. I feel convinced that something happened last night. My tears cleansed our world. They washed away the rain. Axl saw and heard me, but so did God. The universe. _A miracle. . ._

"I'm good," I confirm. I smile as I say it, wishing I could tell him more. ' _You look like you again.' 'I missed you.'_

"Good," Duff smirks. "Thought I was gonna have to shake you back to Earth. You've always done that, you know," He gestures towards the ceiling with his hand. " _Dream_. Even when you were really little. I remember, Alice got scared once, because you were sitting in front of our T.V., watching it, but not really. She thought you had gone catatonic at age six."

"Pulled an Axl," I muse.

At the mention of his name, he turns around from where he stands, talking to Slash.

"What about me, Chas?" His voice is deep and threatening, loud over the music from the radio and everyone's voices. But his smile? That smirk tells me and everyone involved he's kidding.

"Nothing!" I answer quickly. Snappy. We've kept our distance today, but not as much as yesterday. It would be hard to, with how I've spent nearly all day with the boys. Well, all of _their day._ They rolled out of bed just as I started thinking about lunch.

_A miracle. . ._

"That's what I thought," Axl nods, before going back to whatever he and Slash were talking about.

Duff laughs, and I can't help it as I lean back into the same leather sofa as last night. The room feels so much lighter today. The trash can isn't full of condoms. It has pizza boxes in it today. Empty salad containers, too. I couldn't believe it as I watched all the guys eat at least a little bit of green vegetables.

_A miracle. . ._

I'm thinking they _all_ must've had a good night's rest, a reset. Everyone seems better, not just Duff. Even Axl, who I truly thought couldn't get any better. But he did. He did, and it's been glorious to witness. Maybe my crying was cathartic for him, too. My soul must already be so interwined with his, that my release was enough for both of us. He has more bounce in his step, more roses blossoming in his cheeks, in his smile that he's worn permanently on his lips all day. Playful and light, teasing. Not afraid like yesterday, all timid.

_A miracle. . . Thank you, God. Thank you._

I celebrate all that's happened in the last twenty-four hours by getting up, and eating some of the cake the band had delivered. The vanilla-on-vanilla has been thoroughly destroyed, but some letters of _"HAPPY ONE MONTH U FUCKS"_ still remain, all smeared or cut off. The large slice I cut weighs down the paper plate I put it on immediately. Without thinking, I lick off the chunks of frosting from the plastic knife before throwing it into the trash. I have no idea where they found a bakery willing to write the word _"fucks"_ on a cake, but it is good.

So good, that Duff yells at me.

"Slow down, you're gonna get sick, Chassy!"

I laugh, throwing my hand up to shield my mouth. " _It's so good!_ "

"We should have a cake eating contest!"

I look to Steven, who stands confidently.

"I'd win," I annouce, bold.

He narrows his eyes. "Only one way to find out."

"The only way I participate is if there's a prize for the winner."

Paul would lose his mind if he knew I was even considering trying to eat my body weight in cake.

"Don't say that," Steven waves. "You'll be paying up, Chas. Better not to get that idea in my head now! I'll for sure win!"

When I hear Izzy's voice, I'm surprised.

"Chas would win. Teenage girls are _fucking crazy_. They don't have anything on you, Steve. See that look in Chas's eyes?" He points at me. "She's out for _blood_."

All I do is shove more cake into my mouth. The buttercream is like velvet.

_Screw Paul. Screw a competition. I'd eat the entire sheet cake just because._

I don't feel bad about it, not one bit. I'm _celebrating_. Celebrating change. The week is over. I survived. I finished Fashion Week. I didn't make a complete fool of myself. I lived to see the guys again. They're okay, at least for today. And so am I. A good day, at last.

A good night, too. The last one for a while, at least in this way. The last good night surrounded by the guys. With Axl.

_Axl, Axl, Axl._

_I hope he comes to my room again. I hope I keep it together. Even if they'd be happy tears and not sad ones_ _._

"It's already midnight."

My eyes go wide at Duff's words.

"No way."

"Yeah!"

_And just like that, it's over._

"You're kicking me out, aren't you?" I ask him, already knowing the answer.

"Isn't your flight early?"

"Not really," I hurry to say. _I wanna stay!!!_ "It's not until eleven-thirty."

Duff doesn't budge. "Do you want me to ride with you to the hotel, or are you good going back alone?"

"I'm good _right here_ , with all of you," I protest gently. I'm not even tired. It's still early!

"Chas, we wanted to go to a few bars, and we can't take you with-"

"Fine. I'll go without a fight," I say. "But just know that if Michelle was here, she wouldn't agree so easy. You should be thankful I'm so nice."

Duff's face goes serious. "Oh, I am. Super thankful, Chas. I'm so glad that you're doing the bare minimum of listening to me, the guy who's looked out for you your entire life."

"I don't know what parenting book you've been reading, but once people turn eighteen, they can do whatever they want."

"They can't go to bars with their brother and his band."

"Sure they can! If said brother and his band are Guns N' Roses." I gather up my purse, and the new T-shirts I got from the merch booth earlier.

"Alright, Chas is leavin'! Last chance to see her!"

I hug everyone tight. They all wish me a safe flight, and I wish them a safe tour. Axl and I make it look so real, getting awkward with each other again. Steve tears up a little as I hug him goodbye.

I know I should feel a lot worse as I walk out of the dressing room, but I don't.

_Axl will find a way into my room. I'm sure of it._

We take the long way out of the venue. I wave goodbye to the various roadies in the hall, and the ones still breaking down Steve's kit onstage as we pass by. Duff nearly falls all the way down those wooden steps to the main entrance from some unknown liquid, probably beer. I laugh like it's the funniest thing as I catch him, but he isn't as entertained.

I've hardly calmed down when we reach the sidewalk outside, and Duff hails my cab.

"Shut up, Chas! It wasn't _that_ funny."

"Yes it was, Duff. You're more clumsy than I am!"

He shakes his head as he smiles, putting his arms around my shoulders. "C'mere, you knucklehead."

I do. I embrace Duff as tight as I can. My lungs fill with his cologne and cigarettes, a different brand than Axl's. There are no sharp traces of alcohol on him like last night. I decide to remember him this way. Like this. Like Michael.

"I'll try to wake up to see you before you go," Duff mumbles into my hair. "But if not, sorry in advance."

"It's okay," I tell him. "You've done enough." _Getting your act together, even just for today was enough, Duff._

"I love you, Chasity. Be safe. Look after Michelle. Pay your rent on time. Don't crash Axl's car."

Duff's advice makes me laugh.

"I love you, too. And I drive really good, Michael. You just aren't around to see it."

Duff pulls back. His smile is sad as he looks at me, brows knit together. "I'll be back soon. I miss you every day, hon."

He rests his hand on top of my head for a second, and it's my turn to smile now.

"Bye, Duff."

"Bye, Chas."

I've grown so accustomed to riding through the wild New York City streets that this cab ride could be considered relaxing. It's so loud, but in a different way than the rest of tonight has been. The city doesn't compare to Guns N' Roses.

I choose not to be melancholy today, though. I wear a smile on my face the entire way up to my room. All through the practically empty hotel, and as I unlock the door.

My room is still a mess, but not as bad. The maid must've came in. The bedsheets are creased perfectly and all made up again. My clothes are all in a neat pile near the desk. There's new towels in the bathroom.

I fall back onto the white bed, and sigh.

_I wish I didn't have to leave. I could do this forever. Walk fashion shows. Watch Guns N' Roses play every night. Eat cake. See Duff, and everyone else. Come home to a beautiful hotel room every day. Wait for Axl to come by. All that's missing is Michelle._

Unlike last night, the ringing of the phone doesn't wake me up. I'm more than alert, and I move at the speed of light to answer it. It only rings one time before I pick it up.

"Hello?"

"We owe Izzy a solid, Chas."

"Huh?"

In the backround, I hear another voice beside Axl's. _"Like hell you do! I just gave the performance of my life!"_

"-Alright, Iz! We're at a payphone down the street from the venue, Chas. I made Izzy take a bunch of shots, and he _fake_ threw up-"

" _What?!"_

Izzy's voice becomes crystal clear on the phone. "I'm your cover for the night, Chas! You're welcome! I fake dry heaved, and those fuckers believed it! Well, mostly Duff did. We're on our way now, so do what you need to do before Axl shows up at your door, _ha_!"

" _Shut up, Izzy! Gimme the phone-Wel_ l, you heard him. We're on our way to the hotel now. See you soon!"

The line goes dead before I can say anything else.

_Izzy is our cover?!_

"Izzy knows."

Nobody responds back to my words, but I know Axl sure will once he gets here.

"Oh my God."

I practically camp in front of the door, waiting to open it the second I hear so much as footsteps out in the hallway.

Sure enough, it doesn't take long. Axl's jewerly is loud. I'd recognize it anywhere. I throw open the door before he can even knock.

"Get in!"

I pull Axl by the arm, and the hotel door slams shut once he's clear of it.

"Woah, Chas-"

"You didn't tell me Izzy knows about us!" No wonder he was laughing when Duff freaked out over the mere idea of me having a boyfriend last night.

I watch the realization spread across Axl's face. "Oh, yeah. I'm sorry. He found out all on his own, Chas. It's only been a couple weeks. And he's totally cool. He really helped me get here tonight. If he hadn't agreed, I don't think I would've been able to escape-"

"I can't believe you! How much does he know, Axl?"

His face grows red, but I don't back down.

"I can't believe you're just now telling me."

"Well, I couldn't exactly tell you yesterday, Chas."

We stand in silence for a while. Axl leans against one wall, and I do the same across from him.

_Of course Izzy found out. He's observant like that. I should've known. I'm the stupid one._

"I'm sorry," I concede. I unfold my arms, walking towards Axl. "I just couldn't believe it. I can't believe you made Izzy pretend to get sick, so you could take him back to the hotel."

Axl goes red all over again as I rest my hands on his shoulders. He rolls his eyes, his lips turning up softly. "I'm a genius, I know."

His lips are soft on mine when I kiss him for the first time since this morning. "You are," I breathe. "So smart."

We don't talk about anything. Not about how great everyone looked today. Not about the show. Not about Izzy. Our kisses get more passionate the closer we get to the still made bed. At some point, Axl takes off the jewerly around his wrists, and steps out of his boots. I ditch my converse.

But it's not like _that._ It's like last night, minus the sobbing. Minus the fear.

We lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling when we're not kissing. As if there's a window to the stars, millions of them shining above to capture our attention.

"I still have to give you your letters," Axl says.

"Give me a preview right now."

Axl sits up on his side, elbow propped up. "No way. I can't say it out loud in front of you."

I grin. "I should write _you_ letters."

"Yeah, on that pink paper you like, with glitter pens!" Axl throws his head back as he laughs.

"Hey! You would love it, Mister _'P.S. wear those cute little pink panties in memory of me!'"_

That's when I remember.

_Oh my God._

I gasp as I hop to my feet, giggling. "You're not going to believe it!"

"Believe _what_?" Axl questions, looking at me skeptically.

I don't even consider how maybe I shouldn't do it. I just _do_.

My hand unzips my jeans before I unbutton them, and pull them all the way down. I work so quick, that Axl sees what I mean for a split second, before he shields his eyes.

" _Chas_!"

I only laugh even more as I step out of my jeans completely. The only pieces of clothing that are left is my bra, a Guns N' Roses t-shirt, and those ' _cute, little, pink panties.'_

"What are you doing?" Axl still has his hands fully covering his eyes. He lays completely flat on the bed now, motionless.

"Oh, c'mon, Axl. You told me to wear them! So I did. Even if it wasn't on purpose." I climb back onto the bed, fearless.

I have absolutely no idea what's gotten into me. But I don't see any problem with it. _This is nothing he hasn't seen before. . ._

I sit with my legs tucked under me next to Axl, hands on my lap. I stare at his covered face, waiting for him to give up. " _Axl_."

Something shifts the longer we stay like this. My skin prickles. Thoughts fill my head. Bad ones. I recall the day Axl last saw these panties, in the front seat of his car on that empty street. How he lifted up my skirt. The sting of him pulling the waistband back against my skin. The way he said he liked them, out loud.

Axl's hand feels heavy in mine as I pick it up off his face with both of mine. He doesn't resist as I bring his hand onto my thigh, mine pressed over it gingerly. He keeps his other hand over his other eye still. Until I move that one, too. Over to my other leg, in the same spot.

He finally opens his eyes, but he only looks at my face. 

"Is this okay?" I ask him.

His huge hands tighten around my thighs, pressing warm into my skin. It feels so, so good.

"Yes."

I say nothing as I remove my hands from his, letting them fall to my sides. Axl slides his hands up my legs, closer to my hips.

Finally, he looks where I want him to. The smile that glides over his lips is different now. _Dark._

He slides a few fingers underneath the fabric that wraps high around my hip. The other hand caressing my waist, keeping me still.

" _Cute_ and _little_. . ."

I gasp as the band is pulled, and snaps against my skin just as it did that one day. It makes my heart hitch, blood rushing. The sting is so, so good.

Grabbing at Axl's forearms, I whine. My fingers dig into the cross on his arm. " _Axl. . ._ "

He drags his eyes away from my body, up to my face. " _C'mere."_

Naturally, I let a leg fall over to the other side of Axl's body, straddling him. My chest rests against his as I meet his lips in a new way than before. All hungry, messy.

I do something I've only ever done in my head before. Amidst our kisses, I roll my hips against Axl's, slow and hard. My core meets his, and the pleasure that blooms from between our bodies makes me cry out against Axl's tongue. I don't stop. I do it again, and again, and again until I have Axl groaning.

"Normally, we only do this in my dreams."

The words slip out so easy between kisses. So easy, that I don't even _think_ about it.

Axl lets his head fall back against the bed, before he stares up at me.

"You dream about me?"

"Of course I do," I whisper. "I just had that dream with you in it last night, remember? But most of them are different. Most of them are like this."

When Axl says nothing, I worry that I really shouldn't have said anything. I almost contemplate getting off of him, moving away.

"Do I do this in your dreams?"

"Do what?"

I hardly realize what's happened until it's already been done. Axl leans over my body now, my back against the sheets. He kisses me fiercely, tongue back against mine.

"Well, do I?" Axl asks again.

I have to catch my breath before I respond.

"You _fuck me_ in my dreams, Axl."

The desperation oozes into my voice, loud and clear. "You always make me cum. I wake up in the middle of the night and think it's real. I always wish you were there, to help me-"

"To help you?" Axl breathes.

Shameless, I nod up at him. "It's not the same, though. It makes it _worse._ Oh, Axl. . ." My face contorts with something close to pain as I look at his face. " _Please._ "

Axl shakes his head. "I can't, baby. I can't fuck you yet. . ." He says, starting to rock his hips against me, slow. "We need to wait a little. . . _Ugh,"_ He thrusts, again. "-While longer. I can't leave you after. You know that."

"But _I_ _need it so bad!"_ I whine, nails digging into Axl's biceps. The hard muscles in his arms tighten each time he makes contact with my panties, dragging his bulge against the delicate fabric covering me. It feels _huge._

"Please, Axl. _Please_."

He kisses me hastily before sitting up, and pulling his shirt over his head. The sight of his chest, and the V that dips into his pants makes my skin grow hotter.

"I won't fuck you, but I'll help you. I'll help you, Chas."

His words make my entire body feel like jelly. My breathing grows even heavier as I realize what's to come. It's a _relief_.

Axl gets off the bed, and goes to lie back against the headboard. It's a blur as I end up between his wide-spread legs, my whole body putty in his hands.

"Let's take these off, huh?"

Axls thumbs hook underneath the panties, and I nod vigorously, my head resting on his shoulder.

"Please, Axl. _Please_ take them off."

He begins to tug them down, but I also help. I manage to get them almost completely off, but they're still hooked on one ankle. I don't care, and neither does Axl. His hands spread my legs apart, open wide.

Just that alone turns me into a mess. It gets worse when I watch, and feel his entire hand rub along my bare slit for the first time.

"Baby, you're so wet. Look at that," Axl chuckles. He takes his hand away, which makes me throb. But as he pulls back, a trail of my wetness still ties him to me, all over his fingers. "Is this how wet you are when you wake up from dreams about me?"

"Yes, Axl. _Ugh-_ Even worse, sometimes. Sometimes, it completely soaks my panties. I have to get up and _ch_ -change them."

His hand slides up towards my pubic bone for a moment, to the neatly groomed strip of hair there. "How sweet. . . Do you always look like this?"

"Y- _Yes_ , do you like it?"

"I love it, baby. This pussy is so pretty. And so, so wet. My God, Chas. . ." Axl's voice trails off as his fingers circle back down, right to where it feels good. I can hardly breathe.

"Last time, I made you cum just from your clit. But this time, I think you need more, hm?"

"I do," I gasp out. "Oh, _please_ , Axl."

"You let me know if it hurts, okay?"

It doesn't hurt. Not at all.

"Oh my _God_. . . Your fingers are so much _b-bigger_ than mine."

That makes Axl laugh as I melt. He continues to pump two of his fingers into my core, in and out, slowly. The sound that fills the room is filthy, and it makes my ears feel hot.

"Hear that? That's how wet you are, Chas. You're dripping, all over my fingers. So tight, too. You're squeezing my fingers so tight, baby."

The burn in my pussy is eased by Axl's fingers that press into my clit, rubbing hard circles. All I can do is watch his hands work on my body, just as I know he does. It makes me feel so dirty, knowing he's seeing me for the first time. Knowing what he's doing to me.

"Imagine my cock in this pussy, Chas. To be honest, I don't even know if it's gonna _fit_."

I do try to imagine it, but it's hard. The pleasure I feel makes it difficult to try and imagine how it could get even better if his fingers were replaced with his cock. That's when I become completely aware of the hardness poking into my back, just above my butt.

My only response is the loud moans that float from my throat uncontrollably. They're long, high-pitched. At home, I never sound like this. There's too many people around.

Axl only encourages me. "I think I found your G-spot, huh? Right _here?"_

His fingers hit a place I've never reached myself. On contact, my legs start to shake, and fire pools in my belly. His fingers speed up on my clit. The sound of my wetness gets louder now.

Axl shifts us, his legs hooking around mine, my panties still wrapped around one of my legs. He pulls my legs open even wider, and his fingers manage to hit my G-spot better now.

"Don't stop, please, Axl- _Fuck_!"

"Cum, Chas. Cum on my fingers, baby."

It only takes a few more seconds before my legs tingle and begin to tense up. Axl keeps at it, not slowing down. I clench around his fingers as I cum, my whole body tensing with bliss as a new rush of wetness surges through me. "Oh my God. _Oh my God_ , _Axl_!"

Just as quick as the first one, I orgasm a second time. It takes me by surprise, as well as Axl. My moans don't falter as he works me through it, my pussy fluttering around his fingers again.

"Good girl, Chas. Taking me so well. . ."

Finally, I have no choice but to push Axl's hands away from my core as it throbs, completely overstimulated.

"My hands usually get tired sooner."

Axl laughs as he brings his hands up, closer to my face. I don't realize that I've dropped my jaw, ready for them, until he bypasses my mouth, and brings his fingers to his own.

I turn slightly, to see him sucking off my wetness. He even tongues in between his fingers. The sight is obscene, and it makes me whimper as he closes his eyes, totally into it.

_Oh my God. . ._

My jaw drops even further as Axl reaches back down, and swipes two fingers up and down my slit, gathering more wetness. This time, he does bring them to my mouth. I suck off my own taste, his fingers pumping in and out, past my swollen lips.

"Good girl," Axl repeats, practically cooing. "I love you, sweet girl."

His fingers leave my mouth with a loud _pop!_ before I kiss him deeply, still able to taste myself on his tongue.

"I love you, Axl."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The feelings I feel rn 😩 girl bye i can't do THIS AND IM THE AUTHOR i am blushing y'all woah. hope you liked this FILTH


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank God for Steven. That’s it. That’s the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a really long time, I wish I had a good excuse? Life is hard and it sucks, if you’re reading this thank you for sticking around and putting up with me, you’re a real one 😭💖 Not really active on Tumblr right now, so leave a comment and I’ll be getting back to everyone there! Sending love from me AND Viperous Axl to you 💖

I know I’m dreaming.

_“Merry Christmas, Chasity Grace.”_

_Axl hands me a cup of hot cocoa, the mug so warm I instantly watch my hands go red. It’s nice, though. It makes it feel as though this is really happening. As though Axl really is here in my kitchen, wearing matching flannel pajamas with me and playing into my fantasies_.

God, I wish he was. I wish this was real. But it isn’t. I decide to not let Dream Axl know that I know he’s not real. I’d hate to make him upset, to ruin this beautiful dream. I smile, and I thank him instead.

_“Thank you, Ax.” I sip the cocoa he made extra chocolaty, with extra mini marshmallows. It hurts, how much Dream Axl knows me. How much he knows I like to be excessive with sweets, even when they’re not strawberry ice cream. “Merry Christmas.”_

_He replies back with a kiss to my forehead. It’s so gentle, but he lets his lips linger, up to my hair. Another kiss there. It makes my eyes shut, my heart hurting in my chest._

I think to myself about how I wish I wasn’t lucid in these dreams with him. How much easier it would be to actually rest at night and let my subconscious play it all out like a movie. I know that when I wake up, I’m going to be exhausted. I’m too aware for my own good. I don’t know how I became so present, so awake when I dream about him. I suppose it’s because I miss him. I miss Axl so much. _How sad._

_“I love you, Axl.” I blurt out the words so fast. I haven’t told Real Axl, My Axl those words in person since Fashion Week. That was two months ago. Two months, an eternity. It’s all the same, blurred together. Dream Axl is as good as it gets while My Axl is out, touring the country. Serenading every other girl that isn’t me. . . I try not to be bitter, but it’s impossible at this point. Months. . . Months._

_“I love you too, darlin’,” Dream Axl’s voice is so real. I can feel his baritone, deep rumbles working their way from his throat to where my head rests on his chest. “I love you, sweet girl.”_

‘ _I love you, sweet girl_.’

That last night in New York. _Oh, God. . ._

Remembering the events of that night is what wakes me up.

The subtle switch between dreaming and reality is so seamless, the only thing that makes it noticeable is opening my eyes to see my bedroom. No hot cocoa is in sight. Axl’s not here. Axl hasn’t been here in months. My pajamas aren’t red and black flannel. I’m wearing sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt.

Downstairs, I hear the sounds of Christmas music and Layla’s voice. My arms come to circle my knees and pull them to my chest once I sit up in my bed, my eyes glancing at the answering machine on my nightstand. _Should I?_

It depends on whether or not I want to be disappointed.

“ _Chasss-ityyy!_ ”

The way my bedroom door is thrown open not even a second later makes me flinch. Michelle stands in the hall, gasping for air as her chest heaves.

“Are you okay?” I ask quizzically, wondering just what it is that could be so, so dire. What could matter so much that she needs to burst in here like this?

Oh. _The guys._

“Is it-”

“It _is_ ,” Michelle nods vigorously. I worry she’s going to have whiplash.

I feel my eyes widen. My hands drop from my knees as I get up to my feet, the hardwood cold, but I could care less _. Are they okay? What’s going on? What could have happened now??_

“It’s Steve,” Michelle says. “He broke his hand.”

“What? How? Oh my god, what’s he going to do? They still have like, thirty more shows to play until they have time off, Michelle. What are they going to fucking do? When did you find this out?! How come nobody’s told me till now?! I-”

Michelle’s been trying to get a word in the entire time I’ve been speaking, but I might explode if she makes me shut up now.

“I’m calling someone. Right now-”

“Chas! Let me speak.”

My hand hovers right over the phone when I finally consider actually letting her tell me the rest. _Who would I even call? Nobody ever answers for me anyway._

“Fine,” I mumble. I sit back down on the bed, waiting. I even take in a deep breath, ready to listen.

Michelle sighs. “So,” She starts, laughing a little. “I woke up twenty minutes ago to my mother on the phone with Duff. And she was _crying_ , Chas. Because of what Duff told her.”

“Told her what? About Steven’s hand?”

“No,” Michelle frowns. “Why would she cry over Steve’s hand? He’s a dumbass, it was his fault. But anyways, she was crying because Duff told her that he’s going to be home for Christmas.”

I just stare at Michelle as she stares at me. The silence settles in around us, but inside my mind, it’s as loud as could be with my heartbeat drumming in my ears. I start to feel woozy. Like this can’t be happening. I have to still be dreaming, making it all up.

“Oh my God,” My voice sounds far away from my ears, blood still rushing. “Please, Michelle. Tell me this means Axl is coming home, oh my _GOD_ -”

Michelle almost looks proud as she shakes her head, smiling big. “He is, Chas. He is. They all are. They rescheduled a week of the tour, so Steve can have time to rest and the guys can find a replacement for him for a little while.”

I fall backwards, purely because of my muscles going weak. _No way. No way. I’m going to see Axl. Oh my god!_

“Chas, are you okay?” Michelle laughs, coming further into the room. I only know because I hear her footsteps, and from the way the bed sinks down beside me.

_Thank God. Thank you, Jesus. You heard my prayers. Two months of prayers, begging to be reunited with Axl. Thank you._

“Don’t go catatonic on me, Chas. Speak,” Michelle shakes my arm a little.

I smile, opening my eyes to look up at the ceiling. Her face is partially in view from how she leans over me. Her smile is still huge. It’s contagious.

“I can’t believe this, Michelle. I have to thank Steve for breaking his freakin’ hand. I’m going to send him a fruit basket and flowers!” I giggle, kicking my feet with pure happiness. I would feel bad about Steve’s accident, but too many good things are coming out of it. “What did he even do?” I finally ask.

“He got into a fight with some random guy in a bar last night, and eventually had to take it outside. Duff said he watched Steve swing really hard at the guy, but he was so drunk he missed, and his hand hit a light post instead. A light post! His hand is messed up so bad, Chas,” Michelle breaks out laughing now, and I do too.

_Typical! Typical Steve. Thank God for him._

“They had to take him to a hospital in Chicago, and it took hours before the doctors would see him. He’s in a cast. The guys are getting a flight back, and the roadies are driving the bus back.”

“When will they be here?” I practically demand to know. The flight here from Chicago can’t be as long as the one from here to New York. They probably have around four hours of traveling.

“Tonight,” Michelle says quickly, totally sensing my panic.

I let out a sigh of relief. I have so much to do. _Wash my hair, shave my legs, pick out my outfit, practice what I’m going to say when I first see him. . ._

“Oh my god,” I whisper. “I still have to get Axl’s present.”

Michelle gives me a look. “Chas, it’s the 19th. You still have time. Christmas isn’t for like, a week.”

“Yeah, but we’re already so busy, Michelle. It’s right around the corner! Oh my God. Christmas is going to be so different this year,” I tell her. “I’ve never had a boyfriend during Christmas before.”

That makes her burst out laughing. I frown at her. “Michelle! I’m totally serious! They’ve been gone for months, and now all of the sudden they’ll be here tonight! It’s going to be so different, it’s going to be so weird! They haven’t been in L.A since the summer! And you know what happened the last time I saw him,” I hint at that last night we shared. Michelle forced the details out of me when I got home from my trip.

She gives me a devious look, smirking. “ _Oh yes_ , I do know!” She laughs almost manically. “You guys are freaks. This is going to be so interesting, watching the lovebirds sneak around during the big family Christmas! I can hardly _wait_ , Chas. I hope you lose your virginity on Christmas morning. Imagine, that’s your present! _Ha_!”

I slap my hand over her mouth so fast my movements are blurred. She yelps against my palm even louder than she spoke, but I don’t care. I silently gesture to the wide open doorway. _Is she dumb? Anyone could hear her!_

“Be quiet,” I hiss.

“ _Mmh-Iamquiet! Mm-You’re-s-so-dramatic!_ ”

I recoil as she slobbers against my hand, trying to get her muffled words out. Wiping it on the sheets, she speaks crystal clear now.

“I’ve had enough of your abuse for the present moment. I’ll be at home trying to console my mom, I’m sure she’s probably still crying. Have fun shaving down there, try not to nick yourself, he’ll surely notice-”

I throw not one, but two pillows at her as she’s on her way out. She laughs all the way down the stairs, and I shut my door with a huff once she’s out of sight.

_So much to do. . ._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bro 🤭🤭🤭 IM SO EXCITED lmk what you think!! And yes this is based off of when Steve broke his hand IRL and the timeline does in fact somewhat correlate, if you know me you know that I’m a total sucker for lining up the story with real life events :) I’m taking requests for what Axl’s Christmas gift to Chas will be, let me know what you think he should get her! Thank you legends 💖


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